Return of the Stackhouse Six
by Miral
Summary: When Sookie decides to sell the family farm, her five siblings rush home to stop her. What's their plan? Why he's 6'4", gorgeous, and People's Sexiest Man Alive. Will it work?  Do bears love honey? Disney/South Park/Tracy & Hepburn
1. Over My Dead Body  to Get Permanent Home

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are **_**many**_** changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

**Setting: 2000s, Louisiana**

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**IMPORTANT: MUCH MORE FUN VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER ACCESSIBLE FROM LINK ON MY PROFILE**

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**"Over My Dead Body " to Get Permanent Home In Shreveport, Louisiana: ****The City will never be the same!**

**By Sara Weiss and Tom Lattesta**

After a six-episode mini-season, Director/Producer Russell Edgington's HBO vampire-dramedy remake of comedy classic **I Love Lucy**, entitled **Over My Dead Body**, has been picked up for three seasons. While the filming was originally split between Hollywood and Shreveport, Louisiana, all of the show's future episodes are expected to be filmed in Shreveport.

With the moderate temperatures and lower production costs, the Shreveport-Bossier City region started marketing the area to the film industry back in 2005. The region bills itself as offering a diversity of locations including "Kentucky-style horse farms, antebellum-style plantations, bayous, swamps and other fabulous locations." Recent productions filed on-site in greater Shreveport include the television series**The Gates**, feature films **Drive Angry** and **Battle Los Angelos**.

With the recent hits Louisiana has taken to its economy—Hurricane Katrina and more recently the British Petroleum Oil Spill—marketing the state to film studios is seen as a boon to offset recent losses in the tourism and convention markets.

The decision to film the show exclusively in Louisiana comes months after the decision to bring the show back for three more seasons was made. Many associated with the production had assumed filming would continue primarily in Hollywood with some scenes being filmed in Louisiana. Sources report not everyone is thrilled with the decision.

**Over My Dead Body** star, Hollywood heartthrob Eric Northman, 33, is reported to be furious over the last-minute change. Northman, born in Sweden, has been a resident of the United States since he moved to the country more than ten years ago to attend film school at UCLA. Northman, who has been successfully earning himself a reputation for quality acting, has also been earning himself a reputation for difficult on-set behavior.

According to one anonymous source, Northman is "livid" at the last minute change in location. The actor resides in the Hollywood Hills area and has for some time. When not filming movies on-location, Northman prefers to spend his time at home. He has stated in interviews that part of the impetus for agreeing to sign a contract for the HBO show was his belief that the show would film in Hollywood and would not disrupt his established lifestyle.

"What can I say? He gets emo sometimes and there's just no reasoning with him." Our anonymous source also said such an attitude may not bode well for Northman's career, in the long-term. "The pussy has—oh, I don't know—maybe another ten years ahead of him as a leading actor and then it'll be time for the Eric Northman School of Dramatic Arts. You think he'd be more conscious of that? You would think he'd be more interested in taking advantage of his fifteen minutes? No. He wants to be home.

"Honestly, I don't even know what the f*ck he does in that house of his. I say to him. 'Eric, what the hell exactly do you do at that house of yours, anyway? The servants do everything. You might as well just sign the deed over to your manservant—Bobby—he'd wipe Eric's ass if Eric needed it—and even if Eric didn't need it. The whole thing just makes me ill."

While "Ricky" may be having second thoughts about the Louisiana set, Claudine Crane, 34, the actress who portrays "Lucy" is thrilled. Crane actually hails from northern Louisiana—the city of Monroe not far from Shreveport—and is welcoming the opportunity to spend more time in her native state.

Russell Edgington, the show's director/producer, is positive and upbeat about the decision.

"Well, everyone knows I'm doing this to get away from my husband Talbott. Ha ha ha. That is a joke. No, it's just that Louisiana offers the authentic feel we want at the production values we need.

"Why pay for actors to dress up like white trash, when we can just go to source and find some real white trash? I hear with the voodoo priestesses and Santoria practitioners they've got down there, we probably don't even need to get wolves. There's real werewolves! Everyone is THRILLED with the decision! And if they're not yet, they soon will be. Or they'll be fired! Ha ha ha."

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**A/N: I am positively giddy to be reposting this fic. I LOVE IT! If you're reading it for the first time, please review. I have ideas for a sequel but I love to get feedback! ENJOY!**


	2. Hoyt and Hunter

**Chapter Two: Hoyt and Hunter**

A Friday in May in San Antonio, Texas…

_What the fuck?_ thought Hoyt. Thinking it wasn't the same as saying it. So 12-year-old Hoyt Stackhouse decided to say it aloud.

"What the fuck?" Saying it wasn't the same as screaming it, so then he screamed it.

"_WHAT THE FUCK?"_

Hoyt, staring at the computer screen, was upset over an email he'd received from his oldest sister, Sookie. Having a little time to kill before leaving for school, Hoyt had decided to check his email. His 11-year-old brother Hunter, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor of the family room playing games on his Xbox.

Sitting at the desk, a worried expression on his face, Hoyt marveled at his younger brother. Hunter hadn't even batted an eyelash at the sound of Hoyt's scream. In fact, the younger boy was so immersed in his game, it was as though Hunter hadn't even heard Hoyt's scream. Peeved, Hoyt channeled his annoyance into an angry glare directed at the back of his younger brother's head. Hunter continued to ignore Hoyt.

Aunt Linda, however, did hear Hoyt's scream. Displeased, she was more than willing to acknowledge it.

"Hoyt Stackhouse, watch your goddamn mouth," she called from the other room. "Don't make me beat you. I don't have time today."

Hoyt knew Aunt Linda was joking about the beating. She hadn't whipped them yet and Hunter was such a pain in the ass, he constantly gave their aunt cause to want to lay him out. It didn't matter that she wouldn't beat them, though. Hoyt knew Aunt Linda could come up with other methods of punishment. She was a lot like Sookie in that way. Maybe Aunt Linda would send her boyfriend Felipe in to talk to Hoyt. Hoyt shivered at the idea of spending time with Felipe. The guy was creepy.

Suddenly Aunt Linda appeared in the doorway of the family room, with 3-month-old Hadley balanced on her hip. "Now, I realize I've only been your guardian for a year, and I don't mind a little swearing here and there, but don't scream. This is an apartment building and the neighbors hear everything." At this point Linda turned to her daughter and switched over to "baby-speak." "Right, Hadley? The neighbors are like vampires. Up all night and know everybody's business. Hmm, don't they? Don't they?"

Hadley smiled a toothless grin and shyly buried her face in her mother's shoulder.

Aunt Linda turned her attention back to her nephew and godson.

"So, what's going on today, Hoyt? Half of San Antonio's got to hear you cuss before their morning coffee?"

Hoyt sighed. He didn't really feel like talking about the email with Aunt Linda. Fortunately for him, she realized at that point she was still only wearing a bra and slip.

"What the hell?" She shook her head in bemusement. "Sorry, kiddo. I gotta get dressed for work." With that, Aunt Linda sailed out of the family room with Hadley, one last quick-over-the-shoulder look to Hoyt, "Watch your mouth. Seriously. I'm a single working woman who suddenly has three kids. I don't need social services after me."

Hoyt sighed. At 12 he was still pretty young, but he was old enough to know Aunt Linda was a little odd. Just the fact that she dated Felipe. Biting his lower lip, Hoyt turned around to look at his brother. He didn't want to discuss what was wrong with Aunt Linda. He did, however, want to discuss it with Hunter. Hunter, who, at that point, was still staring at the Xbox screen, completely oblivious, and wrapped up in his own world.

"Hey, Hunter." Nothing. "Butthead." Nothing. "Window-licker." Nothing. "You know, I could hide that Xbox and Aunt Linda wouldn't give a rat's ass and then where wouldya be?"

Finally, Hoyt's threat to Hunter's beloved Xbox garnered a reaction. Hitting pause on his game, Hunter turned around and glanced at his brother. Letting out a loud, exasperated-sounding sigh, he met his older brother's gaze.

_"WHAT?"_

"I got an email from Sookie."

"Big deal. I got one day before yesterday. She said Dallas was really hot. They expanded her column. She saw some stupid George Clooney movie with that dickwad Bill and she had to get the air conditioning in the Cabrio fixed. Dickwad told her she should just get a new car. Some friggin' blue hair car. Like a Chrysler or a Buick. Can I go back to my game, now? We have to leave for school soon and I'm hitting a high score."

"Yeah, well, this email today had something different. News. Big news." Hoyt kept his gaze steady on his brother.

"Oh yeah? What?" asked Hunter.

"She said the house is going to be sold."

"No," Hunter replied, reasonably. "She can't do that. It's not her house to sell. It belongs to all of us."

"Hunter, she said she's selling the house. End of story."

Hoyt was watching his younger brother like a hawk. It wasn't that he necessarily _wanted_ Hunter to go apeshit but Hunter, at eleven, was so eminently practical and pragmatic that very little seemed to faze him. So Hoyt knew if something _did_ succeed in upsetting Hunter, then there was cause to be upset.

"What the fuck, Hoyt?" Hunter asked. "She can't just sell the house. Where we gonna live?"

"Hunter, that's what the email said. She's going to Bon Temps today and she's cleaning out the house and Uncle Mike and JB are selling it."

Hoyt watched as Hunter's eyes opened wide.

_"ARGGGHHH!_!" Apparently it was Hunter's turn to scream.

Hoyt had initially thought eliciting some kind of reaction from his younger brother would have proven more satisfying. But he quickly realized his error in judgment. What's more, he realized very little would make him feel better right then.

The boys heard a door creak open down the hallway. From her bedroom, they heard Aunt Linda call out, "Boys, I'm effing serious. Cut out the screaming before 8am or you can kiss that damn Xbox goodbye!"

"Sorry Aunt Linda!" Hoyt called out. "Hunter was just surprised over something!"

And Hunter was surprised. In shock, even. _Catching flies, _thought Hoyt. That's what Gran always called that expression. Finally Hunter's bottom lip met his top lip. He shook himself out of the spell he was under and finally could once again form words.

"Fuck, no. She can't."

"She said she's selling the house."

"Who's gonna buy our house, Hoyt? For fucks sake, I know the people were living there before and they liked it, but—Jesus H. Christ—the FBI came and took 'em away! The house is empty now. It's just waiting for us to come home! Who would want to live in a place where they had a SWAT team bust in and arrest folks? Nobody, that's who. We were supposed to move back there. That's what Sookie said. She said we'd take a break for a year and then move back. Besides, our stuff is there. And what about Long Shadow? Terry Bellefleur said he'd take care of your dog for a year. He didn't say he'd keep him forever."

Hoyt looked at his younger brother who had just mentioned the unmentionable. _Long Shadow._ It hurt Hoyt just to think of his dog. If he started to think of Long Shadow, he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. Instead he decided to focus on the other half of what Hunter said.

Hunter's recall of what Sookie said was a bit off. She hadn't said they'd all move back in a year. What she _had_ said was that they would take a break and see where things stood in a year. Hunter had a talent for reimagining things exactly as he wanted them to be. For an 11-year-old, though, Hoyt had to hand it to his younger brother: Hunter was pretty damn smart. He saw things logically. Cleanly. Rationally. He just knew things. A strong intuitive sense was how Gran used to describe it. It was almost like he could read minds.

"Sookie said we would rent it out for a year and then 'see where things stood.' She's there now. She says we're supposed to email her a list of the stuff we want to keep from the attic, but not to get crazy about it. And she had other news, too. She's getting married. To Bill."

At this Hunter groaned. "Bill?"

"Yep."

Hoyt and Hunter usually spent holidays with Sookie in Dallas, so they had met Bill. They were not impressed.

"Argh!"

Suddenly Aunt Linda reappeared at the door, dressed in a skirt, blouse, and heels, with Hadley at her usual spot perched on her mother's left hip.

"Okay, what the heck's going on? I can hear you two going at it in my room. Spill."

"Sookie's marrying that douche bag, Bill!" burst forth from Hunter's lips.

Hoyt gaped at his brother. He figured Hunter would bemoan the sale of the house to their aunt, not Sookie's coming nuptials.

"Oh, is she?" responded Aunt Linda who absorbed this new information and then seemed to consider it. Hoyt bit his lip to keep from laughing. It wasn't lost on him that Aunt Linda hadn't reprimanded Hunter for his assessment of Bill. Hoyt figured Aunt Linda probably thought Bill was a douche bag, too. "Well, I suppose that's good. She's a beautiful girl, but she's not getting any younger. And she's got a fierce temper on her. Only gonna get worse." Again Aunt Linda switched to "baby-speak." "Isn't that right, Hadley? Isn't that right?"

Hadley cooed, letting her mother know she agreed with her.

"Okay, listen. I'm all set. I have an early meeting so I'm leaving now to drop Hadley off at the sitter. You boys leave this apartment no later than 7:55 and pull the door shut. Do not forget your lunches, backpacks, and keys. Hoyt remember your cell. Have Chow walk you to the bus stop. I'm pretty sure it's his shift. But no matter who it is, the shift is ending, so they should not have a problem walking you two to the corner. Comprende?"

The two boys nodded and were quiet as their aunt packed up her stuff and Hadley's, gave them each a quick kiss, and made her way to the door. They responded to her final "goodbye" and waited silently for the door to shut. After Aunt Linda and Hadley's departure, Hoyt and Hunter stared silently at each other for a few minutes.

Finally, Hoyt cleared his throat.

"What do you think we should do?"

"For fucks sake, Hoyt! We gotta go home. Sookie said last year we'd _revisit_, and now it's time for us to _revisit_. That's what she said we were supposed to do and that's what we gotta do."

Looking at his brother, Hoyt could see that Hunter's face was in lockdown. For 11, Hunter had an excellent poker face. Hoyt closed his eyes and considered the matter.

On the one hand, Hunter was right. Kind of. In a way. Last year, when they all split up and went their separate ways, Sookie did say they'd "revisit" everything in a year. Hoyt figured she had meant they'd revisit the idea of not living in the house—the part about 'seeing where things stood.' But, heck, what did he know? Maybe Sookie did mean revisiting the actual house itself. This was obviously Hunter's interpretation of her words.

While Sookie hadn't mentioned them going back to Bon Temps in her email—she'd only instructed them to send her a list of the stuff they wanted to keep—how could she possibly expect them to be able to put together a list without actually going home to take a look? They were twelve and eleven, for fucks sake! How could she expect them to remember what was in the attic anyway?

Besides, reasoned Hoyt, most of the important stuff wasn't even in the friggin attic. The tree house wasn't. Long Shadow wasn't. The only thing important in the attic was Amelia's weird witchcraft books…

Hoyt let out a breath.

Okay. So was Hunter right about this? Were they supposed to "revisit"? Or not?

All of a sudden, Hoyt decided that he agreed wholeheartedly with Hunter's interpretation. If Sookie said they were gonna 'revisit', then they were gonna 'revisit'. Technically you don't visit your home: you just go home. But she was pretty much telling them it wasn't their home anymore, so now visiting was an appropriate thing to do. He cracked a huge Stackhouse grin. As the older brother, he knew it was up to him to get a plan together.

"Okay, go get your money and pack underwear, socks and some clothes in your backpack. Pack mine too. Hide our books under the bed. We don't want Aunt Linda to know anything's up until we have a chance to talk to Sookie. Grab the lunches. I'll sign a note from Aunt Linda to give the principal. We'll take the school bus to the school and then walk around the corner to the Greyhound station. I'll check the times and fares now. We'll call Amelia from the bus. Maybe we can make it to Shreveport by dinner!"

Hoyt turned back to the computer to check the Greyhound schedule, while Hunter ran to their room to pack.

Suddenly things didn't seem so bleak. By tonight, they'd be home. Or, at least, they'd be in Shreveport. From there they could call Sookie and ask her to come get them. Hoyt couldn't stop smiling.

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**AN: Please R/R. Ideas for the sequel? Thanks for reading. **

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	3. Amelia

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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Chapter Three: Amelia**

Meanwhile, in a boarding school outside of New Orleans…

Lying on her bed, Amelia Stackhouse had done little beyond stare at her cell phone for nearly an hour. Pulling up her sister's email, she read it for the fifth time. Or maybe it was the sixth time? It didn't matter. Her ability to comprehend the words actually diminished with each read.

In addition, she found that her brain hadn't been able to formulate a coherent thought since she'd clicked "Open" on the message. She read it again. That made seven.

_Hey Ame,_

_Hope the final round of exams is going okay. I like your idea for the lit paper. Just ask if you'd like me to read it before you turn in the final version. You know I love that kind of shit._

_Anyway, it's pretty late as I type this so I'm going to have to be quick and to the point._

_I know you know all about the tenants being out of the house. Apparently with 10 bedrooms, the farm wasn't big enough for those two. Now, they're really on their way to the "big house." Ha ha. Okay, corny jokes aside. If they had been able to stay on, I would've just rented it to them for another year. Their rent covered the costs and I didn't see any need to rock the boat. But now, its either find new tenants or sell the house. I'd rather not have to deal with tenants again after this—you know the FBI came out to Dallas to speak with me, right? So, I'm putting the house up for sale. I've already spoken with Uncle Mike and he and JB are going to take care of all that. It's really not anything different from what was decided a year ago. I said we'd rent the house out for a year and then see where things stood. Well, nothing is different today from a year ago. No one is in a position to move back to Bon Temps and we don't have money to just keep the house. So, we have to sell the house._

_I'm giving you the adult version. At 13 I figure you can handle it._

_Also…drum roll….Bill asked me to marry him and I've said yes. So, my future is really here in Dallas. When you're done this year, we can talk about you continuing at Poly Prep or if you want to transfer to a school near me or near Hoyt and Hunter and Aunt Linda. Once things are settled more with Bill and I, I envision all three of you coming to live with us._

_I am going to Bon Temps for a couple of weeks to get everything in order. Depending on who buys the house, we may have to make arrangements to get rid of all the furniture. I'm going to take some stuff back with me to Dallas. I'm still living in my own place but Bill and I will have to start looking for a bigger place together soon. Obviously, I will try to hold on to as many of the sentimental family pieces as I can, but most of it will have to go._

_Speaking of hanging on to things, your books in the attic... I know you pretty much stored everything up there but you're going to have to pick out your favorites and let the rest go. Sorry, Ame. I know some of them are collectors' items so I won't touch them without the green light from you. So I need you to start thinking about what you want to keep._

_Anyway, I'll be at the farm starting on Friday. There's no landline but I'll have my cell. I don't anticipate making it into the attic until the second week but give me a call over the weekend and we can get started._

_Take it easy and good luck with finals!_

_-Sookie_

_"AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! FUCKSHITFUCKSHITFUCKSHIT!"_

Although they weren't much, Amelia finally found some words to express just how she was feeling. Acknowledging herself to be "eternally" pissed off at her sister's ridiculous email, Amelia proceeded to scream obscenities at the top of her lungs. Yet, somehow, she found even that wasn't enough. She desperately wanted the satisfaction that only comes with the violent throwing of objects. So, after giving it one last look, Amelia flung her cell phone across her room.

Hearing the crash and seeing the flip phone now lying in two pieces on the floor by her closet, the girl quickly realized her mistake. Not having a cell phone just made her life exponentially more difficult. "Fucking A. Now what?" she grumbled. Staring at the ceiling, Amelia continued to lie there in her school uniform. Her roommate, Felicia Carmichael, picked that moment to return to their room.

"What the hell, Ame? I could hear you screaming all the way down the hall and if I could hear you, you know who else could hear you. She'll probably be here any minute to give you shit."

Felicia's words shook Amelia out of her reverie and she glanced up at her friend. Usually Felicia was as dark as Amelia was fair. When the two best friends stood together, Felicia's long dark hair contrasted with Amelia's shoulder-length blonde hair. But Amelia had recently upped the ante in her gothy witch look and now sported blue-black hair and bangs. Not being quite as fair as her two older sisters, Amelia could actually pull it off. Sookie and Tara would have looked ridiculous had they attempted something similar.

Staring at her friend, Amelia let out a sigh. Felicia quirked a questioning eyebrow, giving Amelia the 'what's-going-on?' look as she laid her books down on her desk. Pulling her eyes from Felicia's, Amelia turned her head frontward, casting a vacant stare at nothing. Not being one to kowtow to the rules of the 'cellblock', Amelia wasn't particularly sorry about having spent the past five minutes screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. In the moments immediately following her reading Sookie's email, she felt capable of doing much, much worse and had somehow managed to restrain herself. She did, however, care that that pain-in-the-ass Miss Octavia Fant might be knocking on the goddamn door at any minute to lecture her on her "unrefined and unladylike behavior." She already got an earful of that crap last weekend when she returned from the mall with a nose piercing. Seeking to shake herself out of her malaise, Amelia jumped off her bed in one fluid motion.

"Sookie's selling the house. She's going there this week to clear it out." Amelia purposefully steeled her voice to sound dispassionate as she shared this news with her friend.

"_What_?" Felicia was quick to cotton on to the heart of the matter despite Amelia's cool tone. "Your house? In Bon Temps?"

"Yep," nodded Amelia.

"I thought you were all supposed to move back there this summer."

"Yeah, well, that's what Crazy Control Freak Sookie told us all last year. I can't believe I fell for that line."

Felicia glanced at her friend. She was used to the Stackhouse temper and the Stackhouse flair for cussing. But she was slightly surprised to hear Amelia slam her older sister. Although Felicia thought Sookie, from what Amelia had said over the past year, likely earned the moniker.

Still looking at Amelia, Felicia noticed her friend's nose was twitching. It kind of looked like she was doing an impersonation of Samantha from "Bewitched" –which was actually pretty funny, considering Ame's adamant assertion that she was, in fact, a witch. But Felicia knew her roommate well enough to know what it really meant.

"Come here." Felicia opened her arms, inviting her friend in for a hug, and Amelia gratefully fell into them crying.

"Oh, Fel, I thought I was going home. It's the only thing that makes this place bearable. Well, that, and you, of course. But I hate not having a home. Just living here and tagging along with you every weekend. She said we'd see how things were in a year but I honestly thought she just needed a break. Sookie's really not that bad. I know its been tough. I thought…I thought she'd realize how much we all belonged together and we'd go home this summer...

"Hoyt and Hunter don't want to stay with Aunt Linda. Especially now she's got Hadley. It's only a matter of time before she gets Felipe to crack and ask her to marry him. And what if they have more kids? There's no room for the boys then. There's definitely no room for me. And I don't want to live in Dallas with Sookie. She's marrying Bill and you know what a fucking tool he is. And I know I said I wanted to go to boarding school last year, but I don't want it anymore. I just want to go home."

Somehow Amelia had gotten this all out with her face buried in her friend's chest. Although tears and a stuffy nose muffled the words, Felicia somehow grasped it all. She hugged her friend tight.

"It'll be okay, Ame. I'm sure you'll think of something." Felicia wasn't lying, either. She figured Amelia _would_ think of something.

As quickly as it started, the flood of tears stopped. Pulling herself out of Felicia's hug, Amelia took a deep breath. Felicia was right: she needed to think. She needed to come up with a plan. She had to get home. She had to talk some sense into Sookie. She would not just let her sister sell their home. It wasn't just hers. It belonged to all of them. Even if she was ready to settle down with the Douche Bag in Dallas, that didn't mean the rest of them were willing to do that.

Watching Amelia pace back and forth, Felicia could almost see the wheels turning in her friend's head. Amelia's face would transform itself when a particularly favorable idea would explode in her mind, suddenly her features would look not unlike those of a sly Cheshire cat. Felicia learned months earlier that _that_ was a look one needed to watch out for...

As for Amelia being a witch, Felicia didn't necessary believe Amelia _was_ a witch, but, then again, she didn't necessarily believe Amelia _wasn't_ a witch. Felicia figured if any of her friends _could_ be a witch, it would be Amelia. It had nothing to do with what Amelia claimed she could do or the stuff she took credit for doing or all the random things she'd spout off about, like her eye of newt or gold dust or whatever. It was just based on what the girl could pull off. The tricks she could pull from her sleeve and get away with. Award-worthy stuff. If there was a magazine called Teen Hell-raisers, Ame would definitely be on the cover. A lot. Felicia was what her parents called "high-spirited," but she was pretty low-key compared to Amelia. They got along really really well. Since Felicia's well-to-do parents were constantly circumnavigating the globe, the two girls often had free run of the Carmichael home when they went there on weekends. Of course, the housekeeper Marnie (AKA "Nazi") MacDougal often presented challenges, but Ame usually figured out solutions. Like crushing a tablet (or three) of Tylenol PM in the woman's tea. Stuff like that.

Felicia, realizing Ame was watching her expectantly, was the first to break the silence. "Okay. I can tell you've got an idea. What is it and what do I have to do?"

"Well, were you going home this weekend?"

"Yes, of course. And you were coming with me."

"Would Clancy mind a detour? How about you guys drop me off?"

Happy to see the light back in her friend's eyes, Felicia nodded smiling. "Who cares what he minds? He's the driver and I tell him where to go. Of course, we'll take you up to Bon Temps!"

"Oh, thank you Felicia! Thank you!" Amelia smiled her megawatt Stackhouse grin and gave Felicia a fierce hug.

Letting go of her friend, she grabbed her duffel bag from the closet. She found herself wondering whether or not she ought to take any schoolbooks with her. Since she'd pretty much blown off doing any work for the past month, she actually had a lot to catch up on. Frowning, she realized that there was no way in hell she would be able to focus on schoolwork this weekend. Not now. Not like this. She was going home! Sookie wanted to treat her like an adult, Sookie would have to listen to her like she would if she were an adult. The other adults—Tara and Jason— might not care about Sookie selling the house, but_she_ did. Amelia was going to make sure Sookie listened to her even if she had to cast a spell to do it.

That reminded her…The first one she'd like to cast a spell on was Miss Octavia Fant. Pain-in-the-ass had threatened to expel her if there was one more 'shenanigan' as she so eloquently put it. Ame had been feeling pretty ambivalent about the old bat's threat, but now her attitude was 'bring it on.' Amelia realized, with a smile, that getting herself expelled from Poly Prep at this point would totally help her cause.

_Sookie can't send me back here, if MOF doesn't want me back. Score._

As the wheels continued to turn, Amelia gestured over to Felicia that she had more to discuss with her. So the two girls huddled on Amelia's bed as Amelia explained to Felicia the rest of her plan...

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AN: Working on a sequel, so as you read, if you have any ideas, any and all feedback is welcome. Thanks.**

**This is Amelia. She's a little young, but she still likes her witchcraft. Other preferences may also still be intact. Wink, wink. Say no more.**


	4. Tara

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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**Chapter Four: Tara**

Tara Stackhouse, 25, sitting at her computer, glanced around her as she waited for her email account to open. She didn't like to read personal emails at the office. This was more due to her coworkers being nosy than to some moral stance she had against it. Maybe she would have had some moral misgivings about spending company time on personal errands if she'd gotten the promotion she had applied for. Then again, maybe not. She ran her eyes over the lines of the email.

What. The. Fuck? Buried midway in the email –after talking about her job, car repairs, and some weekend jaunt she took with this "Bill" guy she was dating—her sister drops a bombshell.

Sookie was selling the house. Unable to comprehend it, she read the line again. And again:

_Since everything is pretty much the same as it was last year, I've decided to move forward with the plan to sell the house_.

What? How can she say that everything is pretty much the same as it was last year? Nothing is the same as it was last year! Last year Tara had been dying to leave Bon Temps and move to New York City. This year she was desperate to leave New York and wanted to go home!

Focusing her eyes once more on the screen, Tara continued to read Sookie's email:

_We were lucky (I'm not sure that's the appropriate word?) to find tenants willing to take on the responsibilities of a ten-bedroom house on 30 acres. Notwithstanding the circumstances of their departure –if you can believe this, they actually paid a month extra!—they took really good care of the place. Uncle Mike said they even updated the two baths and added a third half-bath (with whose money, I don't want to know!)_

Tara rolled her eyes. Sookie could be so melodramatic sometimes. So? The tenants were criminals. Big whoop, who cares? Tara figured half the people she encountered on the subway had spent at least one night in jail. It was New York, after all. Mentally shrugging, she continued reading:

_Anyway, after this, I really don't feel like finding new tenants. Anyone who belongs in Bon Temps is already there. I'm leery about renting the place to strangers. Maybe it's just me, but I took seeing photos of my family home with the subtitle "Home of alleged internet ponzi masterminds" as a sign that maybe I wasn't living right. The visit from the FBI was just icing on the cake._

Tara rolled her eyes again. "It's not like they hauled _you_ away to jail, Sook," she said aloud. "Maybe you wouldn't be such a control freak if they did." Noticing one of her colleagues giving her the evil eye, she mouthed "Sorry," before turning back to the email.

Silently reading, Tara's eyes widened once more at Sookie's next words:

_I'm still living in my own place but Bill and I will have to start looking for a bigger place together soon. Bill asked me to marry him and I've said yes. So, my future is really here in Dallas._

So that explains it. Sookie is getting married to this "Bill" and staying permanently in Dallas. She was done with the house. Done with Bon Temps. Done with family responsibilities. Sookie had her "Bill" and the rest of them could all just jump in a lake. Tara wondered what this "Bill" was like. She knew the kids didn't care for him much. But they were pretty harsh. They didn't like a lot of people.

Glancing back at the email, Tara scanned the remainder of it quickly.

Sookie was going back to Bon Temps for a couple of weeks starting on Friday to clean out the house and get it ready for sale. The landline had been disconnected but she'd have her cell phone with her.

She wanted to know what Tara might want from the attic and if she was planning on coming down over the summer. Sookie might be able to store Tara's stuff with Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane or she could ship it to New York if it wasn't too much. Or she could bring it to Dallas and Tara could pick it up when she came in for the wedding.

_There it is again. __Wedding_. _I can't believe Sookie's going to marry someone me and Jase haven't even met_.

There was no date yet set for the wedding.

Sookie had spoken to Jason via Skype earlier in the week and he said something about getting discharged early but the call was dropped before she got the full story.

Done reading—_absorbing_—Sookie's email, Tara sat back in her desk chair. Rather stunned, she felt her lips open and close a couple of times. Her mouth felt very dry. Finally, Tara's impersonation of Woman Catching Flies caught someone's attention. Her coworker Dawn Green sauntered over.

"Hey, earth to Tara. You okay?"

Still shell-shocked, Tara turned to Dawn with unseeing eyes.

"Hmmm. What, Dawn?

"I said 'are you okay'?"

Normally, Dawn wasn't someone that Tara confided in. Honestly, Dawn, although she was pretty and friendly, she was also a bit loose when it came to guys. While that wasn't something Tara would typically judge a person on, they had gone out for drinks a few weeks earlier and Dawn just took off with this creepy guy she met— Malcolm?—leaving Tara to fend for herself. So, Tara wasn't too enamored with Dawn's skills in friendship-building.

But right then she didn't really need a friend. She needed…what did she need?

"My sister emailed me that she's going to sell our family house."

"Well, don't you get a say in that?" Dawn asked not unreasonably.

While her lips had met for all of ten seconds, Tara's jaw returned to its position inches from the floor. Did she?…Did she get a say in whether or not the house was sold? She knew she had an opportunity last year to say something and she hadn't. If actions truly speak louder than words, then she had screamed for all the world to hear the previous year when she had packed her bags and moved to New York.

Getting out of Bon Temps had been something she had wanted to do for so long, thinking of ways to get out became second nature. She had a job offer in Shreveport doing marketing for a chain of health clubs. But Shreveport was Shreveport. She had lived in New Orleans for two years during graduate school and she toyed with going back there but it was still too soon after Katrina. It really wasn't the same. She didn't think the opportunities would be there. Besides. New York was, well, New York. So she pulled on her big girl panties and decided to take a bite of the Big Apple.

Sadly, the apple had long ago turned brown. It even had worms. Lots of worms.

Her job doing marketing for the educational division of St. Martin's Press, while it sounded amazing before she took the job, had long since lost its luster. The salary that sounded so great in Bon Temps actually paid for a 10 by 10-foot room with a shaft window in a no-living room apartment with three roommates. And that wasn't including the mice, which brought the total household size up to five.

As for finding people she had something in common with… a lot of people were running around with chips on their shoulders. She rarely met folks from the country. Even if they might have originated in the country—it was like there was this conversion that occurred in New York. It was like everyone had to turn their back on where they grew up, and then had to outdo each other on the pop cultural references.

Tara could barely afford to leave her "shaft" but when she did, it seemed like everyone she encountered was either a fashionista, a foodie, a Page Six follower, or an avid devotee to HBO's flavor of the month. The most annoying succeeded in perfecting all four. Tara couldn't count the number of times she pretended to rustle through her bag pretending to look for something while her companions compared notes on the latest fashion styles/restaurant opening/pseudo celebrity gossip/awards show. If they ever tried to get her opinion, her hand would then miraculously find the errant tissue and she would fake sneeze so loudly everyone would just move a few inches away and forget about asking her for her opinions. Eventually they'd figure her out and then she'd be forced to attempt flubbing her way with fake answers.

Yeah. That pretty much summed up her social life.

Dating was a challenge. The guys…eh…so many were so fake and arrogant. Her Southern accent, while a turn-on to some, definitely lead some guys to think she was a dumb Southern blonde who'd spread her legs for meals. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a genuine conversation with a guy where she just was able to be herself and laugh.

Nope. Scratch that. She could remember.

JB.

The boyfriend she left behind. The one she had grown up with. The one she figured was just a childhood thing. People don't fall in love with "the one" when they're 13, do they? Tara had a crush on JB on and off from the time she was 13 and he was 16. They always all hung out together—JB, Jase, Sookie and her- but JB was closer in age to Sookie, so she assumed he and Sookie would get together eventually. But they never did. Sookie dated Alcide. Then Quinn. Finally, at 18, after she had broken up with Frank Mott, Tara asked JB out. Turned out the idiot hadn't asked her out because he thought she was too young.

_Was he gonna wait until we were in our 80s? _Tara giggled remembering.

Fuck.

Sometimes people make stupid mistakes.

When they don't talk things out.

They make assumptions.

They don't "grab the brass ring."

What. The. Fuck. Suddenly things clicked in Tara's mind. Clarity.

"You know what, Dawn? I think you're right. I think I do get a say." Tara jumped up and gave a shocked Dawn a quick hug. Sitting back down, she opened her browser for Orbitz and proceeded to look for flights to anywhere near Bon Temps.

She was going home. She was going to talk to Sookie. She would not let her sister just sell their home without a fight.

_Screw you guys; I'm going home_, Tara thought.

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**AN: This is Tara. Okay, some of her expressed opinions and experiences in NYC *looksaroundsheepishly* may coincide with my own. My apartment has a shaft and pretentious people are annoying. New readers, I know it's a reposting but you can always drop a comment to let me know what you think. I am writing a sequel and I do take requests...**


	5. Jason

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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Chapter Five: Jason**

Jason Stackhouse was free for the first time in years. Twenty-six. Good-looking. And free. His stint in the Navy done, he was now free to resume his life. Having served his country well for the past four years, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his hard-earned freedom.

He wanted nothing more than to go home.

Unfortunately, his high-handed control-freak sister was going to make it difficult for him.

"Ah, Sook," he shook his head and talked softly aloud as he drove his "new" Passat.

He didn't blame her, really. When their mother died three years ago, Jason had already been gone for one year. Hmm, time for some family age math. He had been 23. Sook was 24. Tara was 22. And the kids. Ame was 10, while Hoyt was only 9 and Hunter was 8. Sookie was good with the kids. Real good. She had been born to be a disciplinarian. Naw, that wasn't true. She just had no other choice. Dad died when they were teen-agers and mama just never got over it. She didn't take care of herself after daddy died. If anyone had been in a position to force the issue, maybe they would've been able to get her better care. She didn't kill herself but it was just a matter of degrees.

After Corbett Stackhouse died at the early age of 48, Michelle Stackhouse was depressed. It was like she gave up…on…everything. She no longer cared about anything—even her six kids—and when she started to feel sick, she didn't care enough to see doctors. By the time they got clued in that there was something major wrong with her and Sookie put her foot down, it was too late.

Inoperable cancer.

Jason took a deep breath and let it out.

_Maybe that's why Sook's such a micro-managing pain in the ass: she blames herself for not doing more to manage Mom._

She stepped up. He would never not give her credit for that. He was able to get a few days leave, but she had arranged for everything by then. The wake, funeral, burial. The kids were cared for. The kids were always well cared for. Truth was Michelle Stackhouse hadn't been steering the ship for a long time. Sookie had been taking care of everything. The house. The kids. Doctors. Dentists. Books. Bills. Insurance. Car repairs.

Jason thought back. They had a lot of fun for a while. Him, JB, Sook and Tara. Then Sookie had to step up and take care of everything and she still managed to get college done. He had done a stint at the Community College before signing up, while Tara had been able to go to Shreveport and then get a Masters in New Orleans. Sook had stayed home, taking classes around the clock, in between managing mama's meds and doctor visits, parent-teacher meetings for the kids, and seeing to the house. Even with a housekeeper and landscapers once in a while, tracking it all was not easy. With his subsequent experience in naval logistics, Jason could better appreciate his sister's unparalleled attention to detail.

Jason sighed.

_No wonder she's done_, he thought. _Really, she lost out then and she deserves her own life. I get it. No one should have something forced on them—meeting the needs of others—if its not something you choose to do. She must have thought we were all sucking the life out of her, the way everyone needed something and she, somehow, was the only one capable of delivering it._

Well, Jason was ready to step up. He had no fucking clue as to what kind of job he'd get in Bon Temps, but he figured with the skills he'd picked up in the Navy, there'd be something for him. Didn't hurt that he was a local boy with a fine physique. The Stackhouse name still meant something in some quarters. Maybe Uncle Mike or JB might have some ideas. Maybe Sam Merlotte. He should definitely go visit Terry Bellefleur, a fellow vet.

_Shit, of course I'll go visit Terry. Gotta pick up Long Shadow._

Jason drove mindlessly the distance between Fort Worth and Shreveport. He found himself thinking about Long Shadow. That dog was really one of a kind. An idiot savant of a dog. Long Shadow couldn't figure out how to bury a bone, but that time that bitch Sandra Pelt came for a visit, damned if the dog didn't carry her things outside one by one, placing them on the front porch lined up with military precision.

_That_, Jason thought, _is a dog you keep. Forever._

Noticing his stomach growling just outside of Bossier City, Jason decided he'd stop for a quick bite then rather than head into Bon Temps and stop at Merlottes. He knew he'd want to visit with Sam and everybody, but really he should focus on getting to the house and talking to Sookie pronto. He forgot to recharge his cell phone, but he figured he could plug it in while he ate. He smiled. He was close. So close. He could almost smell home.

A few minutes after pulling off I-20, he made a few turns before turning into the parking lot of a bar and grill.

_Hmm, the Lafayette Bar and Grill_, he thought. _Never heard of it but as long as they don't serve aids burgers, I'm good._

Chuckling at his joke which he recognized as the epitome of bad taste, Jason headed into the restaurant. He immediately noticed two things. One. There was no music playing. Two. Nonetheless, it was very loud. Although it wasn't full, the restaurant was respectably busy. He quickly realized that most of the tables were actually pretty quiet. All the noise seemed to be coming from a particularly boisterous group sitting in a corner. The leader of the pack was a flamboyant black man wearing a pink shirt and red kerchief tied around his head.

_Okay_, Jason thought, _that's different_.

Suddenly the black man came over to the entrance and greeted Jason with a licking of lips, a batting of eyelashes, and an all-round eye fuck.

"Hmm-hmm. Hello, gorgeous. I is Lafayette Reynolds and I is gorgeous. Welcome to Lafayette's Bar and Grill. Will there be others joining you this evening?"

Jason looked around, wondering if he was being punk'd. Nothing seemed wrong. Well, unless, of course, it could be considered weird that everyone sitting at Lafayette's table had turned to smile and wave at Jason.

Jason cracked a grin. He had no fucking idea what was going on, but he was about an hour from home, about to eat some Louisiana homecooked, or restaurant cooked food, and half the people in this crazyfucker's restaurant seemed real happy to see him for some fucking reason.

"Nope, its just me. How ya doin'?" With that Jason grabbed Lafayette's hand for a firm handshake.

"Oh, you sho is strong."

"Navy'll do that to ya."

"Oh, boy, you in the Navy?"

Jason realized the error of his ways. He knew Lafayette was seconds from belting out The Village People's "In the Navy," so he quickly cut him off.

"Out. Out. Out of the Navy," Jason realized yelling "out" repeatedly to a gay man who is eye-fucking you might send an equally wrong message, but he continued. "Today. Done with active service. Starting now. Left Fort Worth a few hours ago and I'm on my way home."

"Oh, boy! You sound like you need to celebrate. You come right on over here and join us. We started the party already, but there's plenty of room for one more!"

"Thank you, Mr. Lafayette. That's very kind of you. This is a nice place you have here."

"Oh, no, baby. First, off. My name's Lafayette. No "Mister" about it but if I likes you, you can call me"Miss." Second, I don't own this dump. We're just a bunch of crazy bitches working on a TV show in Shreveport. I found this place and drag everyone down here once a week so I can pretend to be the chef."

Jason nodded. He was oddly relieved. His new friend's behavior made more sense now that Jason knew the guy had absolutely nothing to do with the fucking restaurant. He did wonder how Lafayette and his friends got away with taking over the place.

Lafayette talked a mile a minute as he led Jason over to the rectangular corner table where his party sat. Jason was having a hard time keeping up with Lafayette's quick paced conversation.

"Since the series got picked up, we're down here in Shreveport to start filming. Let me introduce you to everyone here, although maybe some of them don't need any introduction, hmm? This here is Russell Edgington, the director of "**Over My Dead Body**." That's Claudine Crane, she plays the Lucy character. That's Jennifer Catar, she's Ethel. This is Maxwell Lee, he's a cameraman. This is Selah Pumphrey, the best damn makeup artist ever." At this Lafayette growled. "This is Patrick Furnan, the head writer. That's Jerry Falco, he's Fred Mertz. And this is Eric Northman, the Ricky Ricardo character. This here is my new friend, who is just out of the Navy," Lafayette winked, while Eric and several others groaned, "today. Ain't he sweet?"

Jason nodded 'hello's' to everyone. He thought a few of them looked familiar, but he really hadn't been too current on television shows and movies before he went overseas, he certainly wasn't up on any of it recently.

Eric smiled up at him. "Lafayette's new friend —you got a name?"

"Jason. Jason Stackhouse," Jason leaned over and shook Eric's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Jason."

"Likewise." With that Jason sat, ordered a beer and proceeded to be entertained.

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**AN: ****If the story's new to you, the review will be new to me! Please review. I read all comments and you never know what might happen. ericsgirl1 asked me to "take everything wrong in the world out on Bill" and that inspired me to write "Oh No! Vampire Bill!"**

**BTW: I don't know anything about Navy life including how long a typical stint in the navy is. The brother's return from the military is part of the Elizabeth Cadell canon. I do know a little about logistics.**


	6. Greyhound Smells Like Piss

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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Chapter Six: Greyhound Smells Like Piss**

The trip from San Antonio to Shreveport by bus took much, much longer than Hoyt thought it was going to take. Although the Greyhound bus arrived on time, it was still nearly eight o'clock when it pulled into Shreveport. Ten hours. Ten fucking hours. And they still had forty minutes to go to get to Bon Temps. Fuck. Hoyt was tired. No, weary. Not typically a word a 12-year old would use, Hoyt had a pretty good vocabulary and he was definitely weary. Having Hunter nearby all day under normal circumstances was bad enough, but having him sitting in a bus seat next to him for ten fucking hours was effing exhausting.

Note to self: pack LOTS of AA batteries next time I go anywhere on a bus with Hunter.

Note to self: pack earplugs because Hunter doesn't shut up.

Note to self: pack tissues because Hunter's nose runs in the AC.

Note to self: pack lots of snacks and drinks because Hunter—who can forget to eat for twelve straight hours if he's sitting in the den playing computer games—apparently gets a fucking ferocious appetite if he knows there's no food nearby.

The Gameboy's batteries died early. A while after that the IPOD conked out. The portable dvd player lasted a little longer but then, it too, croaked. Hoyt was okay reading on the bus but his younger brother needed visual and/or audio stimulation at all times. It kept Hunter revved up and energized, but Hoyt was exhausted just from sitting next to Hunter and seeing him out of the corner of his eye. Finally around four thirty, Hunter had just fallen asleep. Hoyt had never been so fucking thrilled in his life. But now it was time to wake him up.

"Hey, wake up. We're there. Hunt, get up. The bus is pulling into Shreveport." Hoyt poked his brother's shoulder repeatedly.

"WHAT?" A replay of their morning exchange, Hunter's response to being woken up was as warm and fuzzy as being disturbed from his games.

"C'mon turd, we're in Shreveport. We gotta get off the bus soon."

Still groggy, Hunter gradually got acclimated to reality. Right away he remembered something.

"Did you call Aunt Linda?" Hunter asked. "You said you'd call Aunt Linda at five. It's eight now."

"Yeah, I called her," Hoyt replied. "I left her a voicemail on her cell when I knew she wouldn't pick up because she was still at work."

"What'd you tell her?"

"I told her we were going home to Bon Temps and that Sookie would call her when we got there."

"What about Maria Starr?"

"I called Maria Starr and told her that we were going to an after school program and that we didn't need her to meet us after school because Aunt Linda was going to pick us up."

"Will Maria Star call Aunt Linda to check?"

Hearing Hunter's question gave Hoyt pause a minute. _Hmm_…. "You know, now that I think of it, I think we should be more worried about Aunt Linda trying to reach Sookie when she gets our message."

"What would Sookie do if Aunt Linda called her and told her we were coming home?"

_Hmm, another good question_, Hoyt thought. "I think, if Sookie knew we were planning on coming home, she'd know the only way we could get there is by bus. Maybe she'll go to the Greyhound station to meet us. Or send JB to get us."

"Has Sookie tried to call you?" Hoyt took his phone out of his pocket. It was charged okay, but goddamn ATT had shit for service. _Most bars my ass. I could scream out the fucking window and reach more people. I don't care how goddamn cool this iPhone is! _"I have no fucking idea. I didn't have bars for most of the trip. I tried Ame a bunch of times and just got a weird signal, not even her voicemail. No clue. I've got bars now. I'll try Sookie now so she can come get us."

Hoyt hit dial on his sister's number, but frowned at Hunter when it went straight to voicemail. "You know something? Maybe we don't have good service at the house. I never had a cell phone when we lived there. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere, with just the cemetery and that creepy old haunted house next door. We need an effing cell tower." With this declaration, Hoyt shut his phone.

"Aren't you gonna leave a message?"

"Well, I could but I'd rather just try her again when we get in the station. We have to get our stuff and get off now anyway." As if on cue, the bus finally rolled into its gate in the Shreveport Greyhound parking lot. Not too many other passengers made the 10-hour journey. Just the two boys and a few college aged kids who were obviously looking to party it up. One girl, appearing to be 18, winked at Hoyt who quickly turned a shade of pink.

"Need help with your stuff?" Although 12, Hoyt had yet to hit his growth spurt. This girl had a few inches over on him. But he could collect their bags from the overhead compartment just fine.

"Ah, I got it okay. Thanks."

"Suit yourself. My name's Thalia."

"Hoyt. This is my brother Hunter."

"Aw, you two are delicious."

"Thanks." Hoyt grinned at Thalia. Once Thalia passed to get off, Hoyt turned to realize Hunter was staring at him. And it was making him uncomfortable. "WHAT?"

"What. The. Fuck? A-hole, we are here on a mission. To make sure Sookie doesn't sell the house. I don't have time to watch you going all Jason on me. You got it?"

Thunderstruck, Hoyt's eyes widened in shock at his brother's words. "No. NO. Whatever, Hunter. You're nuts. I don't know what the hell you're talking about. She asked me if I needed help with our bags. That's all."

Hunter rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag from Hoyt. "C'mon. Lets get off this goddamn bus. It smells like piss."

Hoyt grabbed his stuff and trailed after his younger brother. It had been an exhausting, effing horrendous journey, but they were now 90% of the way there. Here on out, it should be easy sailing.

A few minutes later, after a pitstop to the men's room, Hoyt and Hunter were standing in front of the departure board. Hoyt was trying unsuccessfully, again, to get through to Sookie's cell phone, while Hunter was playing an intense game of "Kick the Bottle Cap." Finally, Hoyt gave up on actually talking to Sookie and left her a voicemail announcing that he and Hunter had come home to "visit" as she indicated they should and they would be there soon since they were at the Shreveport bus depot. Since Hoyt wasn't in the habit of talking to the DuRones, he didn't have any of their numbers programmed into his phone.

Resigning himself to the fact that they'd have to figure out the regional bus schedule, or find a cab, Hoyt walked up to the ticket counter. He glanced back at his brother and Hunter was still playing his game with predatory instincts worthy of his name. Hoyt sighed. He was really really tired and could have done without getting stuck at the damn train station at eight o'clock at night. But victory was around the corner.

"Excuse me, Mister—"

Hoyt proceeded to explain his travel needs to the ticket clerk, hoping this journey would soon end.

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AN: ****Please R/R. Thanks. **


	7. Pam

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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Chapter Seven: Pam**

Amelia Stackhouse stood by the north-facing entrance of the I-49 rest area just south of Natchitoches. She was scoping for a ride. Yes. It had come to this.

Everything had been going along perfectly. Until it got royally fucked up.

Ame had managed to get herself expelled by giving herself a Do-It-Yourself nipple piercing (she had wanted one anyway). She hadn't just left it at that, she'd actually gone and flashed her tits at Miss Octavia Fant—or MOF— when the old witch (not in a good way) called Ame into her office to let her have it for her loud cussing. That whole getting expelled thing was way fucking easier than she thought it was going to be. She had a whole list of Goodbye Fuckoffs to gift MOF with. Stands as testament to the woman's total and complete lack of imagination that something as mild as a baby barbell on her boob was all it took.

Ame was trying to take care of Felicia too, since it wouldn't be the same for Fel with Ame gone. And Felicia was nearly as tired of MOF's bullshit as Ame was. So they were considering just going to MOF's office, Ame was going to tell the old snatch that she wanted to talk to her and apologize about screaming obscenities, and then once MOF let them in the office, Ame and Fel were going to just start making out and dry-humping on the leather couch. A part of her was slightly sorry they didn't do it anyway. It would have been an all-round high-impact exercise.

Not only was Ame absofucking positive it would have gotten them both expelled, she was also absofucking certain it would have secured their reputations beyond the campus boundary. It would have established them far and wide throughout New Orleans. Ame was also 90% certain MOF would have responded by getting an exorcist in there to ward away their demons. Now, most people might see that as a bad thing, but Ame was actually itching to meet a demonologist. She had a ton of questions. Then, of course, there was the fact that Fel was just hot as hell and Ame wouldn't mind a little goodbye nookie.

That was Part 1: Operation Expel. Then came Part 2: Operation Escape.

Clancy, the Carmichaels' alcoholic chauffeur, had agreed to take the long way around Louisiana to make sure Amelia got home to Bon Temps. Since the Carmichaels' estate is located in the Baton Rouge suburbs, it was a bit much for a one-day round trip but they got an early start and they told Clancy that if he didn't feel up to making the trek back down, Felicia and he could always just crash at the Stackhouse Farm. Felicia's parents weren't even around that weekend. It would just be a matter of making up some bullshit to feed "Nazi" MacDougal.

The problem was that Clancy—that effing asshole—decided to have a few drinks when they stopped outside Alexandria for dinner. Unlike every other drunken Irish man—who perform tasks better when inebriated, Amelia was absofucking positive she had read a study somewhere—Clancy starts weaving on I-49, hitting the rumble strips a dozen fucking times. He even slurred his effing words. What self-respecting Irish drunk slurs?

Then it happened. Amelia knew it was going to happen. Then it did. The sirens. The red flashing lights.

Fuck. Me.

The only saving grace was that Fucktard Clancy managed to keep going —at her and Felicia's urging—until the Natchitoches rest area. So, there they were: Ame and Fel in the back of the BMW 750Li while a drunken Clancy engages in a slow speed cop chase on I-49 for a good 20 minutes. Ame crouched low in the seat so the cops wouldn't know that there were two girls in the back seat. Finally, Fel gave Clancy the okay to pull off in the Natchitoches rest area, which he did. After a quick hug and kiss goodbye to Fel, with her bag in hand, Amelia proceeded to roll out of the car and crawl away, hidden from police view by rows of parked cars.

That had been nearly 40 minutes ago. From her vantage point she could still see the BMW so she knew they hadn't left yet. She wasn't sure what the cops would do. Have Nazi MacDougal come to get Felicia? Put Clancy in the slammer? Amelia had to just shake it off. She was sorry her friend took a hit, but really it wasn't a total loss. One of the cops seemed cute—at least from what she could tell from the rear windshield—Felicia probably had them eating out of her hand by now.

Not wanting to be too fucking obvious, Amelia thought using her thumb along the interstate was a sure-fire way to get the cops back on her. As she was still wearing her pleated schoolgirl uniform and carrying a duffel bag, her look practically screamed "emo runaway"! She was even regretting the blue-black hair, which definitely screamed "PAIN. AGONY. NOTICE ME." Yeah, she was wishing she blended in. She missed her blonde hair right then.

Anyway, she and Felicia had done this before. Since they technically weren't old enough to drive—although God knows they both could—sometimes they made new friends just to help them get from Point A to Point B. Despite the seemingly risky nature of the transportation technique, they'd actually had good experiences. Amelia attributed it to her strong witch's intuitive sense. She just knew who would be trouble and who would not. She also carried mace everywhere and knew she could drive—even a standard—if she needed to.

So –

So far she had not yet approached anyone. She had, however, dismissed a good five potentials. This long-haired Native American guy just looked uber creepy, like he was on a mission to? To do what? Like bring death to people. he made her shiver. She couldn't explain it any more than that.

Then there was this nasty couple that were obviously drug addicts. They looked snivelly, like rats. She palmed her silver necklace when they passed, almost as if to ward them away.

Then there were these two ginormous twin toothless foreigners. They actually were never potentials. Amelia just couldn't stop staring at them. It's the 21st century. Who walks around with no teeth? Much less with an equally toothless identical twin?

Then there was this big round bald man with black beady little eyes who was traveling with this young girl dressed in a pink tutu and green and white striped tights. She called him 'uncle' and despite appearances, Amelia felt they would have been okay. She could see the natural affection between the two and they just seemed 'safe'. Relatively speaking, of course.

Looking at the rest area door she saw a gorgeous blond woman wearing red Prada and Jimmy Choos emerge holding a Slurpee cup. Wearing a red hairband and matching red DKNY sunglasses, she seemed to be heading towards a silver Mercedes, which was parked by itself in a handicap space. Actually it was angled diagonally across two handicap spaces.

Pausing a few yards from Amelia, the woman turned back and looked over at the girl.

"Well?"

"Can I get a ride?"

The woman pressed her lips together and pondered the request. Finally, she expressed what was on her mind.

"And what's in it for me?"

"I'll keep you company," Ame replied. "I'm pretty good at telling stories."

"More."

"I can drive if you get tired."

The woman pulled off her sunglasses and squinted at Amelia.

"Hmm….how old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"More."

"I'm a witch. If you need any spells cast, I could do that for you."

Suddenly the blond woman smiled and looked radiant. Like Alice in Wonderland Amelia thought. Realizing how ridiculous that was, Amelia fought the urge to giggle.

"Oh, now THAT sounds interesting. Where are you headed?"

"Bon Temps. It's 40 minutes outside of Shreveport. But really anywhere near Shreveport would be great. I can figure something out for the final stretch. There's a bus I can take from Shreveport."

"Hmm. One more thing and we have a deal."

Amelia kept quiet but looked at the woman expectantly. _What the fuck could she possibly want?_ Vague warnings about "predatory Lesbians" rose to the surface of her mind, but then she just shoved them way back into the far recesses—along with all the other drivel she'd ever heard from Miss Octavia Fant. Amelia waited expectantly.

"I want your clothes."

"You what?"

"I want your clothes. Sure, I could shop around for the schoolgirl look, but I prefer to go for authenticity. We seem seem to be right around the same size."

The blonde woman had a good four inches on Amelia. And definitely more contours. The girl's pleated schoolgirl skirt would fall just under the woman's ass crack. Not to mention the fact that Amelia hadn't quite 'blossomed' yet, so the blouse would be pretty snug on the woman. Somehow, Amelia didn't think either of these things would faze her new acquaintance. The woman was looking at her waiting. Suddenly it occurred to Amelia that maybe the woman expected her to be stripping right then and there?

"WHAT? Now?" Amelia balked.

"No, no," the woman smiled then. She was so…so…what? 'Ferocious' seemed like a good wouldn't have been surprised to see fangs appear in the woman's mouth. "We can go somewhere and you can change into something else," the woman finished.

Hmmm. While her duffel was mostly filled with books—some school and some craft, just in case she needed them—Amelia did pack her makeup and a change of clothes. But the woman didn't know that. Amelia might be able to use this to negotiate herself a full ride to Bon Temps.

"Okay. One thing, though. I don't have a change of clothes. I do have clothes at the house in Bon Temps. If you drop me off over there, I can give you this outfit. Hell, there might be more stuff in my closet you could have." With this, Amelia held her breath. She really really wanted this to work out.

"Fine. I'm going to Shreveport anyway. Get in. How about I drive for now and you can take over later?"

"Sure. That's fine." Amelia tried to sound matter-of-fact, but was this woman really going to let her drive her $100,000 Mercedes? _What. The. Fuck_.

Amelia and the woman had just settled into the car, snapping seat belts into place, when the woman's cell phone rang. Not pausing, the woman proceeded to pull out of the parking spot with the phone balanced on her shoulder.

"Pam Ravenscroft."

Try as she might, Amelia couldn't hear the other part of the conversation, so she just sat back in the passenger seat and watched the view as the Louisiana countryside once more flew past. She giggled. 'Pam' drove much faster than Clancy. She glanced over at the speedometer and her eyes widened when she saw they were going over 90 mph. As long as they didn't get pulled over by the cops, she would be home really really soon. Even if they did get pulled over, Amelia had faith in her newfound friend that it wouldn't really delay them too much.

Suddenly 'Pam' was talking.

"—Eric, really, stop being such a pussy. You took a gamble and the show got picked up. You know the production values of these shows. So what? You live in Louisiana six months out of the year. You'll find some local cheerleader and it'll be fine. I'm on my way back from visiting _my_ 'friend' in Alexandria. Don't be such a snob. Most actors would kill for a chance at a series. Regular paycheck. No scrambling. The other six months you can do that real acting shit you like to do with the other IKEA know, that pseudo-intellectual military crap that's really just an excuse to fuel wet dreams with a gratuitous overkill of shower scenes."

'Pam' paused here, while 'Eric' must have given her a piece of his mind.

"You know something? You used to be more down to earth. I don't know what's gotten into you and frankly you're trying my patience. Call me back when you've grown a pair." With that parting line, 'Pam' snapped shut her cell and placed it in the side console. She glanced at her travel companion. "So, what is your name?"

"Amelia. Amelia Stackhouse."

"Well, Amelia, I am Pam Ravenscroft. How exactly did you find yourself stranded at a rest stop outside of Natchitoches?"

"I was in a car with my friend and her driver and the driver got drunk when we stopped for a bite, so we got pulled over in the rest area. I need to be somewhere, so I couldn't stay with them."

"Uh-huh. Aren't you a bit young for urgent business meetings?"

"Well, it's not business related. It's family related."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"Well, it's complicated," Amelia squinted her face. She remained silent.

Pam, in the meantime, was not having it. "Listen Amelia, you promised me stories and I will hold you to our agreement. If you do not comply, I will pull over and you will get out of this car. Am I clear?"

Amelia looked over at Pam with widened eyes and suddenly wondered if her psycho-meter was off. She nodded.

"Good. So spill. At the rate I'm driving, we'll be in Shreveport in less than an hour."

So Amelia proceeded to tell Pam about Sookie's email, the house, her brothers and sisters, her collection of witchcraft books, Hoyt's dog, Hunter's tree house, the fact that she hates boarding school, Bill-the-Douchebag, Aunt Linda's growing family, JB's unrequited love for Tara, the tenants who got hauled off by the Feds. Everything. To her credit, Pam Ravenscroft was an excellent listener, with a precision for details that could only be the result of years spent as a Hollywood manager, which is exactly what Pam was.

"Okay. Amelia, I get it. But when your parents died, where'd the money go? You had money to keep the house and then—what? poof!—it was gone?"

"Yeah, I'm not 100% clear on that. I think—think—we were living off Daddy's money—life insurance—until last year. Some money was in a trust and the way it was set up or something, we lost out on a good chunk of it. Aunt Linda got some of it, but I don't think even she got that much. But she felt guilty about the whole thing—or maybe Sookie just bullied her—and so she took Hoyt and Hunter. But now she's got Hadley and I'd bet money that she gets Felipe to propose in the next six months."

Pam let that sink in and considered her next words. "Here's a question for you: What are you going to propose to Sookie as an alternative?"

Amelia's eyes widened. She gaped at Pam. That was a good fucking question. "I –I don't know. I've been so focused on just getting home today, I haven't really given much thought to that."

"Well, you're going to have to think about that. Now, you're bright, but you're still only—what did you say? Thirteen?"

Amelia nodded. "Yeah."

"Even if you, Hoyt and Hunter want to stay in Bon Temps, you're going to need an adult living with you. Did you try calling your older siblings? What—Jason and Tara?"

"I—uh—kind of destroyed my cell phone earlier today. I didn't have a number for Jase anyway—he was overseas somewhere—and I don't have Tara's number memorized. I know Hoyt's number. He would have Tara's number."

"Would you like to borrow my phone to try to reach Hoyt?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Of course," Pam nodded.

Amelia called Hoyt but it went straight to voicemail. _Odd. Usually he has pretty good coverage in San __Antonio, though it was no thanks to those bloodsuckers, ATT_. "Hey, Hoyt, I got an email from Sookie this morning and, well, she's talking about selling the house. I'd really like to talk to Tara about this, but I broke my phone and I don't have Tara's number anymore. When you get this, could you please give me a call on this number? It's not my phone, but I'm with a friend and it's her phone. Okay, talk later." With that, Amelia snapped the phone shut and sat back in quiet contemplation.

Pam looked at Amelia out of the corner of her eye. Quirking a brow, she half-smiled to herself. She felt like she was looking in mirror. Not, of course, the disgusting blue-black Cleopatra hair. But what was underneath.

_This girl is just like me, 20 years ago._

Notwithstanding his current bout with 'pussyness', Eric Northman was her best friend.

_And he was so going to love hearing this story. Of course, she'd have to wait until the girl was no longer seated next to her. That would just be rude. Well, they were closing in on the Shreveport exit, so it wouldn't be much longer now._

**

* * *

**

**AN: That Pam. Just to give you an idea of the changes wrought to make this story work, in the Cadell original 'Pam' was an Italian Fuller Brush salesman named Pietro. Modesty aside, how's that for the most fuckawesome character reinterpretation in FanFiction history?**

**AN: Please read and provide feedback. All ideas go into the vault. Feel free to ask questions about the Cadell book, too! I know some folks actually tracked it down and read it...**


	8. A Shithole is a Shithole

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: A Shithole is a Shithole**

Hunter, on the other end of the Greyhound Station from where Hoyt was talking with the ticket clerk, was quickly tiring of his game of "Kick The Bottle Cap." Seeing his brother deeply engrossed in a conversation with the ticket clerk, Hunter decided to check out the area outside. Even though he grew up 40 minutes from Shreveport, Hunter hadn't really spent much time in the city. The Stackhouses didn't go into the city all that much, especially not this shithole area by the bus depot. Pushing open one of the glass doors, he went outside.

"Jesus H," he muttered to himself. "This place really is an armpit."

Remembering how beautiful it was in Bon Temps, Hunter thought for the millionth time that day that Sookie was just plain friggin out of her mind nuts to want to sell the house.

_Batshit crazy_, he thought.

Curious, Hunter proceeded to look around. Debating which direction to walk in, he finally decided to scout out to the right. As he got nearer to the corner, he noticed the glow of bright lights in the distance so he followed the glow. At the corner, he turned. Suddenly, he smiled.

"Wow! Cool!" he exclaimed to no on in particular. The lights, fixed on poles, were pointed in various directions. Half a dozen trailers were parked along the street with a dozen more parked along the next block. Seeing signs posted on utility poles, Hunter figured it might explain what was going on. He wandered up to one to have a look:

**NO PARKING FRIDAY, MAY 6 and SATURDAY, MAY 7**

**ORDER OF THE CITY OF SHREVEPORT POLICE DEPT**

**FILMING TELEVISION SHOW **'**OVER MY DEAD BODY'**

**ALL ILLEGALLY PARKED VEHICLES WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE.**

"NO SHIT!" Excited, Hunter exclaimed this rather loudly and was quickly overcome with guilt at having cussed in public. Glancing around he was relieved to see that there wasn't anyone around who would've heard him.

_Wow_, he thought. _Awesome._

This was so fucking awesome, it _almost_ made up for that fucktarded bus ride and the fact that Shreveport was "The Place Where People Go to Die." Remembering that old family joke, the boy snickered. Jason had started it. They had all been in the car one day—ages ago—going to visit Gran in the nursing home when they passed all these bombed out blocks and wastelands. Jase declared it "The Place Where People Go to Die." Of course, it was a little mean that they were on their way to visit Gran in a nursing home, but still. Besides Gran agreed that Shreveport had some bombed out craters.

_A shithole is a shithole, even if the grandma you love lives there. Gran was awesome._

As he'd made his way closer to the trailers, Hunter continuously kept looking around for people. While he'd heard voices, he still hadn't seen anyone. In addition to the trailers and the lights, he noted speakers, chairs, and trunks.

After he'd walked mid-way up the block, he finally spotted some people. They were all standing across the street about a block up from where he stood. Looking at the trailer a few feet away, Hunter decided it might be fun to explore a little. Stealthily climbing up the aluminum steps, he quietly tried to turn the door handle. His jaw just about hit the floor when he realized the door was unlocked.

"Fuckawesome" he whispered as he pulled open the door and snuck into the trailer.

Once inside he quickly encountered a pair of cool blue eyes. A tall blond man, sitting on a sofa, reading, ceased his activity upon seeing Hunter. Appraising Hunter with a quizzical look on his face, Hunter thought the man looked like he was trying to decide whether to yell or laugh. Finally the man grinned.

"Hello. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Uh, hi. I was waiting for my brother in the bus station and I decided to walk around. I saw the trailers. I've never seen a movie filmed before. Thought I'd just check it out. Sorry. I'll go."

Alone in his trailer, Eric Northman had been studying his script for more than an hour. Lafayette's spearheaded dinner had wrapped up hours ago and he hadn't spoken with anyone since his return from dinner. Since they needed it to be dark before they could shoot, they weren't scheduled to start filming until later. Eric was doubtful they'd even get to any of his scenes tonight.

Trying to decide what to do about his young guest, Eric looked at the boy. He figured he could spend a few minutes conversing with the boy. The show was on at ten and the way most parents were pretty lenient with monitoring children's television viewing, maybe the boy was a viewer. If he wasn't a viewer, maybe Eric could win over a new fan.

"Well, you don't have to run off. Did you just get in on a bus?"

"Yeah, my brother and I are going home. We just got off a Greyhound bus from San Antonio. The trip took fucking forever and the bus smelled like piss."

Eric quirked a brow in amusement. _What was that term Pam liked to use? That's right: tiny humans._

"I haven't been, but I'll keep that in mind."

Meanwhile, Hunter quirked his head and was looking intently at Eric. Finally he said what was on his mind.

"You know something? You look familiar." Hunter kept staring at Eric. He knew he knew him from somewhere, but he wasn't quite sure.

"Well, have you seen the show? '**Over My Dead Body**'?"

"Yeah, I saw the sign on the pole. The name's not familiar but I don't always know the names of shows. What's it about?"

"Well, it's based on an old show from before you were born – called '**I Love Lucy**.' Only instead of a Cuban congo band leader, it's a vampire nightclub owner. Anyway, the vampire's wife is a bit stubborn and she's always getting herself into trouble and then her husband—the vampire—has to get her out."

Hunter's eyes widened in recognition. "Yeah! Hell yeah! I did see that show. Fuckin A! Aunt Linda loves you! She told 'Uncle,'" at this Hunter made airquotes with his fingers, "Felipe that you're her free pass. She said if she meets you, she's keeping you."

Eric's eyes widened at this. _Interesting. Good looking kid. Aunt obviously has questionable judgment on appropriate child-friendly conversation. On the other hand, she's probably a looker. As Pam said, it might help the time pass..._ Amused by his own mental wanderings, he shook his head.

"Well, how does your," and Eric mimicked Hunter's use of air quotes, "'uncle' feel about that?"

The boy remained silent for a few seconds as he appeared to consider his response.

"Aw, I think he thinks she's blowing smoke because she wants him to ask her to marry him and she's just saying say shocking stuff to make him worry about her leaving him."

Eric cocked an eyebrow. _How old was this kid? _"How old are you—?" Eric paused, realizing he didn't know his new friend's name.

"Oh, I'm eleven. My name's Hunter." He held out his hand.

Eric shook his hand and replied, "Eric. Eric Northman."

"Yeah, that's totally familiar now." Hunter was looking around the trailer when he suddenly whirled around. "Oh, shit. I just realized something. My brother is gonna have a shit fit. I kind of left him at the station counter and didn't say where I was going. Could I use your cell phone to call him?"

Without a word, Eric took his cell from his pocket and handed it over to Hunter. Hunter dialed quickly and after a few rings, Eric could hear the brother answer through the phone receiver.

_Who is this?_

"It's me."

_Fucking A, Hunter! Where the hell did you go? You friggin pissant, I've been worried that I fucking lost you. Sook would really have a fucking cow over that._

"Sorry. I got bored waiting for you. I went outside. They're filming a TV show."

_Okay. So where the hell are you?_

"Go out the north entrance and walk to the right, then make a right at the corner. I'm in the first trailer on the same side as the station. Don't cross any streets."

_Jesus H, Hunter. You're a real fucking trip, you know that? If Sookie finds out you broke into someone's trailer, she's gonna let you have it._

"I didn't break in. The door was open. And now I'm visiting with someone."

_What the hell are you on? Who the fuck would you be visiting? We don't know anyone here._

"Well…I guess…I don't really know him, but I sort of know him."

Suddenly, hearing a knock, Eric and Hunter both turned to look at the trailer door. Eric gestured for Hunter to let his brother in. Hunter shut the phone, handed it back to Eric and then pushed the door open.

"About friggin time, slowpoke," Hunter told his brother.

Hoyt wasn't in the mood. "You know, Hunter? You're a real pain-in-the-ass. Wait until I tell Sookie about this stunt you pulled. She'll whoop your ass."

"Aw, I'm not afraid of Sookie. She's never hit any of us and you know it."

Hoyt sighed. That was true. Sookie didn't hit. She had other methods. And Hunter knew them as well as he did. Taking his eyes off his brother for the first time, Hoyt finally glanced around the trailer and saw the tall blond man sitting on the couch.

Eric, looking at Hoyt, waited for a glint of recognition to appear in the boy's eyes, but it never came. Finally Hoyt leaned over and offered his hand.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Hoyt. Hoyt Stackhouse." Hoyt gave Eric that winning Stackhouse smile.

Eric was the one who got a jolt of recognition. His eyes widened in surprise. Stackhouse? _What. The. Fuck_.

* * *

**AN: And the plot thickens…What will People's Sexiest Man Alive do?**

**FYI: In the Cadell original, 'Aunt Linda' brought 'Hunter' to a movie starring 'Eric' but not 'Hoyt'. This is why 'Hunter' recognizes 'Eric' but 'Hoyt' doesn't. Also, although 'Aunt Linda' and her husband have a baby after the two boys move in with them, everything else about 'Aunt Linda' and 'Uncle Felipe' is a product of my twisted imagination. Please don't attribute anything about those characters to Elizabeth Cadell. Her original story was sweet and gentle. I made A LOT of changes.**


	9. Eric

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Eric**

Staring at the two boys in his trailer, Eric found his mind racing. After his rather random meeting with Jason Stackhouse at the Lafayette Bar and Grill earlier that evening, he never would have expected to meet more Stackhouses. What were the odds?

Getting over his initial shock, Eric wondered if he should tell Hoyt and Hunter that he had met a Jason Stackhouse earlier that day. Odds were he was a relative. Could be a brother—or not. Eric couldn't remember Jason saying anything specific about having brothers. Eric supposed the name could just be a coincidence. Or maybe they're related but not close relatives. It was small town America. They could just be descendants of two separate branches of the family tree.

Frowning, Eric tried to recall the conversation from the restaurant. Unfortunately, Laffy had directed much of the dinner conversation which meant it was fun, cheap, and shallow. Just like Laffy.

Eric did recall Jason saying that he had just received his discharge from the Navy and was on his way home. Eric remembered he'd mentioned a control freak sister who was determined on selling the family house. As much as Jason was looking forward to going home, he wasn't looking forward to locking horns with his sister. After that, Laffy had turned the conversation around to find out how Jason enjoyed being in the Navy and bunking with so many other men.

Looking speculatively at the two boys, Eric finally decided to ask the pair what brought them from San Antonio to Shreveport. Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a look. Finally Hoyt spoke.

"Hunter, you know, we should really go. Mr. Northman is a stranger. He's been nice enough not to drag us to his torture chamber—" Eric, kind of shocked, looked at Hoyt. "But I really think we should be going."

The younger boy, meanwhile, rolled his eyes at his brother's words.

"Hoyt, he's on the vampire show Aunt Linda watches. He's her 'free pass'. You really think somebody on TV is going to kill us here in a movie trailer? Jesus H, Hoyt, there's a fucking film crew twenty feet away." Hunter shook his head sadly. "Haven't I taught you anything?"

Duly chastised by his younger brother, Hoyt considered Hunter's points. It probably _was_ unlikely that Eric would kill them in his trailer. Even if he _was_ a serial killer, there _were_ a lot of people around. It _would_ be hard to keep it a secret. Hunter was always the rational one. For eleven, he had really good insight into stuff.

"Well, fine. He's on TV and he's Aunt Linda's 'free pass,' and he ain't gonna kill us. But still: we need to call a cab and get home."

"Why can't we take the bus?" asked Hunter.

"Ticket clerk at Greyhound said there are no more buses. Not tonight. It's too late."

"What about Sookie coming to get us?"

"I tried Sook again and couldn't get through. I'm starting to think there must not be any coverage at the house. We've got no choice but to take a cab, and we don't have enough money for a cab. But Sookie should be able to take care of it when we get there."

Eric cleared his throat. His two guests turned to look at him. So engrossed in their back and forth, they actually seemed momentarily startled to see him there.

"You two took a bus that smelled like piss to arrive in Shreveport late at night. You have no money to pay for a cab and you can't reach the person who is supposed to pick you up because it appears they don't have cell coverage at the house. I guess there's no landline?" Pointedly he glanced at each boy and they each nodded in turn. Eric nodded thoughtfully before continuing.

"Hunter said you two were 'going home.'" Borrowing a page from his new friend, Eric used air quotes as he said the last two words. "That's not exactly the full story, is it?"

The two boys looked at each other. An unspoken communication seemed to pass between them. Finally, Hoyt let out a sigh. "Yeah, there's more. Sookie —that's our sister — she's the oldest and so she's the one in charge of everybody—"

"Not Aunt Linda?" Eric interrupted Hoyt out of curiosity.

"No. NO! Not Aunt Linda." This was Hunter. "Ha, that's pretty funny. Aunt Linda's like 15 years older than Sook, but Sook's always the one in charge. She even bosses Aunt Linda."

"Really? Interesting. Go on," Eric prompted.

_This Sookie must be a real piece of work. Probably hot as hell if her brothers are anything to go by._

"Anyway," Hoyt continued, "our parents both died and Sookie watched us and took care of everything. But then last year the money kind of ran out. So Sookie said we'd all have to leave home for a year and then we'd revisit and decide what to do. Only—"

Hunter decided to pipe in at this point. "Only Sookie decided to just sell the house. So she emailed us telling us to let her know what stuff we wanted to keep and she'd see what she could do. But she knows we don't want to stay with Aunt Linda. My treehouse is in Bon Temps and Old Terry Bellefleur has Long Shadow—that's Hoyt's dog. Ame's books are in the attic—and there're too many of them. And Tara should just marry JB, already. And Jason —"

And there it was. Eric cocked a brow. _Yep. Jason_.

"Jason is gonna get out of the Navy soon. Real soon. He emailed it was July but he said it might be sooner. How's he gonna go home, For Fucks Sake, if there's no home for him to go to?"

Eric let out a breath. These boys were coming clean. It was his turn.

"I have to tell you two something. Earlier today, I met a Jason Stackhouse. He said he was just out of the Navy. He said he was coming from Fort Worth. Don't remember if he said where he was going to, but I met him at Bossier City which is just outside of Shreveport."

Hoyt's mouth opened in shock. He moved his lips up and down but couldn't get any words out.

Hunter looked at his older brother, and shook his head laughing. "Catching flies again, Hoyt? Well, here," Hunter grabbed Hoyt's phone from his brother's hand and, after hitting the touch screen a few times, held the phone up to Eric. "That him?"

Eric looked at the photo. It was most definitely the Jason Stackhouse he met a few hours earlier. A few years younger. More lighthearted. Longer, non-military haircut. But definitely him. Eric nodded. But he didn't remove his eyes from the picture. That gorgeous blonde hair. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Perfect smile. Eric cleared his throat and finally took the chance that his voice wouldn't catch. He figured he already knew the answer but decided he would ask anyway.

"Who's that with him?"

"Sookie, of course."

_Sookie. Of course. The controlling hellcat that every Stackhouse he'd encountered so far was afraid to cross. _

Eric had a thought. Well, not so much a thought as a primal urge. He really didn't know where it was coming from. Maybe it was because he was bored. Maybe it was the intriguing story he'd somehow found himself engrossed by, caught up in, albeit on the perimeter. He liked these boys. He liked their brother Jason. His own parents had passed away years ago. Although he was older than these two boys at the time of his own parents' passing, he knew what it was like to be an orphan. Home is an important concept. Not everyone got that. These kids did. Jason—home from the Navy—of course, would get it. They should have a chance to hold on to it. Sookie—apparently — did not get it. Not certain to what extent he wanted to intervene, Eric decided he very much wanted to help the boys. He just needed to check on something.

"Hang on you two. I have to make a phone call. But I'm pretty sure I can help you out."

Eric called over to Patrick Furnan and confirmed that he was unlikely to be needed for shooting until much later due to some problems with the sets. Aside from that, there was also a forecast for a storm later than night. If it rained, the outdoor shots would be scratched. Confirming he had a good chunk of the next few hours free, Eric decided to follow through on his crazy whim.

"Hoyt, Hunter." Eric regarded his two new friends. "I have a car here and I just confirmed with my boss that I have the next few hours free. As long as you two can give me directions on how to get to your house, I could easily drive you home. How does that sound?"

"Fuckawesome!" Hunter cried out. "Really friggin' good. It's been such a long fucktarded day, I just want to go to sleep."

Hoyt sheepishly seconded the idea. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay."

Eric got up and shrugged into a sport jacket. Grinning, he thought of something else. _Why the hell not? _"You have pictures of everyone in your family on that phone?"

"Just about," replied Hoyt.

"Aunt Linda?

"Uh, yeah," Hoyt's fingers flew across the touch screen until he found one of Aunt Linda holding Hadley.

Eric looked down. Black bra and slip. Gorgeous blond hair. Blue eyes. Rose colored lips. Holding a baby. Eric's eyes widened. "Interesting."

"Yeah, she pretty much looks like Sookie, only older." This from Hoyt.

"Felipe calls her a MILF." This from Hunter.

While it took a lot for Eric Northman to be rendered speechless, these young Stackhouses seemed to have the capacity to turn him into a mute. Now he was going to meet the control-freak older sister. The blonde goddess/she-devil. The one he'd already dubbed the "Barracuda" in his mind.

This couldn't possibly turn out well. Could it?

This Sookie, apparently as strong-willed as she was beautiful, inherited a ready-made family upon her parents deaths. While she took care of everyone for a while, something happened last year that prompted a change. So, she decided to parcel them all off and call it quits on the family. She filled them in on her plans by taking the coward's way out—coldly, formally, by email—'Oh, by the way. Tell me what remaining mementos of our life as a family you want, since I'm selling the house and thus ending our life as a family.' That's effectively what she did. She told them. 'You think you have a home? Think again. I've decided there is no more 'home.' Sorry.'

But she had a big surprise coming. She had at least three of her siblings—and Eric Northman—on their way to stop her. Eric smiled. He hadn't felt such a sense of happy anticipation in quite some time. Leading his two young friends out of the trailer and up the street towards the parking lot where his Corvette was parked, Eric decided some small talk was in order. He found himself very curious about the Stackhouses.

"Hey, so it's Sookie, Jason, and you two. Is that it for kids?"

"Oh, no," Hunter replied. "There's Tara. She moved up to New York." He scrunched his nose at the words, like by just saying its name, he could smell the city. "Tar's younger than Jase. Amelia, she's a year older than Hoyt. She's 13."

"Did you try to get in touch with anyone else, aside from Sookie?" asked Eric.

"Uh, yeah." Hoyt nodded. "Tried Ame on and off all day, when I had bars. Fucking ATT. But something must be wrong with her cell. Weird dial tone. Never went to voicemail."

"Last time that happened she'd flung it across the room." Hunter recalled.

"Oh, yeah," Hoyt glanced at his brother, nodding. "Forgot about that. Ame would've been FUCKING RIPPING when she saw Sookie's email. Her temper's nearly as bad as Sook's. Maybe that _is_ what happened." Hoyt shrugged.

The two brothers shared a knowing look. Apparently Amelia, Eric thought, had she been older, was the one most likely to put Sookie in her place. Interesting.

"And did you try to reach Tara?" Eric prompted.

"Nope. Hadn't thought of it. She hasn't been back here in forever." This from Hoyt.

"That girl is batshit crazy. She lives with rats in a shaft. She's fucking insane." This from Hunter.

"Yeah. Wonder if JB's starting to look better now…" Hoyt's words went on.

Between the two boys, Eric got an earful during the 45-minute drive.

The neighbors: Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane. Their son, JB, who wanted Tara to stay in Bon Temps and marry him. But Tara wanted to live in New York so she left and hadn't been back to visit since.

Then there were the tenants who were hauled away by the FBI after 'Sam' turned them in to '**America's Most Wanted**'.

The mother who died of cancer. The father who died in a freak flash flooding accident when they were really young.

'Gran,' the foul-mouthed matriarch who died two years earlier.

Two years after their mother's death, the boys went to go live with Aunt Linda, the "MILF," only then she was a single career girl. Then 'Uncle' Felipe knocked her up. Now it was Aunt Linda, the two boys, Baby Hadley, and Felipe in a 2 bedroom condo in San Antonio.

Jase had been in the Navy 'forever' while Amelia went to a boarding school outside New Orleans.

Sookie was a columnist for a magazine based in Dallas. Ugh. She was engaged. Eric laughed out loud. She was engaged to some "'douche bag' who's trying to convince her to trade in a Volkswagen for 'some blue hair car'" as Hunter put it.

With some amazement, it didn't take long for Eric to feel like he knew nearly everything there was to know about the Stackhouses. And he liked them. And he wanted to help. Hoyt and Hunter had plenty of ideas of what they wanted to say to Sookie, to make her understand how they felt. Eric hoped they wouldn't fold under the pressure of their domineering sibling.

Considering the matter, Eric decided he would stick around long enough that night to encourage them and hopefully help bolster them and see that they got their say. He wanted to make sure they had their chance to tell Sookie exactly what they thought about her idea to sell their home.

As for Eric, he wouldn't mind talking to Sookie himself. She seemed to need a good talking to. If a person's lucky enough to have a family like this, you certainly don't toss them away because they're not 'convenient.'

Eric was very much looking forward to arriving at the Stackhouse Farm.

He was very much looking forward to seeing the two boys stand up for themselves.

He was very much looking forward to meeting this Barracuda of a sister.

_What the hell are you getting yourself into, Northman? _he thought. _Pam's gonna love this._

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**AN: I know people in "the business" but I really am just winging all the stuff on the TV production.**

**Do we have any new readers? Please give a shout and let me know. If you're doing rereads (I know some of you are) I know you can't review but you can PM. My thoughts about changes are to make the story better but I would love to hear your thoughts on the changes. And I take anonymous reviews so you could always log out and post a comment.**

**FYI: In the Cadell original, the tenants just leave because they are transferred to Africa for business. It was my idea to have Sam send them to the big house. Remember the original was set in 1950s England, not 21st century Louisiana. The dog in the original was named 'Long John.' Going with Long Shadow was a total no-brainer.**

**THANK YOU FOR READING AND JOINING THE FUN!**


	10. Maxine

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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**Chapter Ten: Maxine**

Tara hated flying. She knew everyone back home had written her off as a big city snob for not visiting over the past year, but really being on a plane scared her.

Then there was also the fact that she had no money.

And no real vacation time.

But mostly it was the fact that she really hated flying.

The day had been quite the blur. Basically, she quit her job and told her roommates they needed to replace her. Regardless of what happened with the house, she was done with New York. She didn't know if she'd settle in Bon Temps, but she knew she was going back to Louisiana. Or maybe Texas. That moment of clarity that had occurred while she'd been talking with Dawn had been overwhelming. She had given it a shot and –whatever "it" was—well, she was done with it. She would never regret the fact that she hadn't given it a shot, since she had. She just came to realize it wasn't what she wanted. Period. Moving on.

What Tara did regret was not being closer to her family, especially the kids. The kids were growing up and she, a stubborn fool, was missing out. And now Sookie was getting married! Tara could give a rat's ass about that Bill guy—not that she'd met him, but the kids seemed to have unanimously decided he was just not worth the effort. Amelia, playing on Sook's old lifeboat "short list"/"long list" comparison, had said that not only would Bill not make any of her lists, she wouldn't even bother to learn how to spell his name for possible inclusion on a future list. Tara figured "Compton" was pretty easy to spell, but she got Ame's gist. Regardless of Bill, with Sook getting married, there might be new Stackhouses coming along. Or Stackhouse-Comptons. Whatever. For that matter, Tara had never met Hadley, Aunt Linda's baby. She was probably really cute.

Tara closed her eyes and put her seat back. She needed a plan. She needed an alternative to present to Sookie. She knew what Sookie's point of view was and she needed to be able to counter it somehow. Not just for her but for Ame and the boys. That house was their heritage too. They deserved to live in it until they were ready to leave.

What to do?

Tara needed to get a job. She wasn't sure what or how much it would pay, but she was confident she could find something.

The three kids could go to the Bon Temps public school. No more tuitions. But they'd have to get registered for school and figure out what extracurricular activities they could be involved in to keep them out of trouble until she, Tara, got home from her mystery job in Bon Temps.

_Amelia, especially, required extracurricular activities. The way trouble followed that girl around, maybe she is a witch, _thought Tara.

And then there was Jason! Jason would be out of the Navy soon. She hadn't really been in touch with him much lately, but she couldn't imagine him wanting to go anywhere other than Bon Temps. He would definitely be anxious to just go home and look for a job in town.

What else?

What she really needed was some sense of the costs of maintaining the house. In retrospect, the fact that she had no idea how much it took spoke volumes to how much the responsibility of running the household had fallen squarely on Sookie's shoulders.

_Sook just took care of it—everything—and we all sat back and just figured it would continue like that forever_, Tara thought sadly.

Tara sighed. She kept oscillating between feeling anger at the seemingly callous way their older sister was treating the five youngest and total painful regret at not being more conscious of Sookie's predicament earlier. After finishing her Masters program in New Orleans, Tara had really kept to herself, literally crossing off the days on a calendar waiting for her move to New York. It seemed so redonkulous in retrospect.

Sitting back in her seat, once she had satisfied herself that her mental plan included everything she could think of right then—1) Consult with Uncle Mike and JB; 2) Bed and Breakfast in part of the house; 3) minor construction to carve out one or two rental apartments—Tara permitted her eyes to close and fell into a much needed nap.

Tara awoke later to a hand tapping her shoulder.

"Miss. Miss. We're here. In Shreveport."

Tara looked up. This woman—in her early 60s, solid, with short red hair —had been sitting next to her for more than three hours and Tara had never bothered to look at her. She felt bad about that so she smiled at the woman now.

"Thank you."

Tara stood up and stretched to grab her bag from the overhead compartment, while her row neighbor waited patiently by her side. Tara felt obliged to say something.

"Sorry, my bag's a little jammed—"

"No worries. I'm meeting my tour bus at 5."

At this announcement, Tara raised a brow.

"Ma'am, you sure that's the time?"

"Yes. Five o'clock. I know it's later than that in New York, but we go back in time when we fly west. So I'll make it."

Okay, now Tara felt bad. _She obviously has the time difference wrong, poor thing. _

The two of them were walking down the center aisle to exit at the front of the plane. Tara felt obliged to break the bad news to the woman.

"Listen, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but the time difference between New York and Shreveport is only one hour_. _It's nearly six o'clock here now. Maybe your bus tour didn't leave yet, but it's definitely past the time you were supposed to meet them."

Reaching the front of the plane, Tara looked forward and nodded the perfunctory 'goodbye' to the flight attendants. Not hearing a reply from the woman, Tara turned around to glance at her red-haired travel companion. She noted the woman looked perplexed and slightly alarmed.

"Oh, that's bad," the woman finally commented. "I've never been here before. It was an AARP travel tour. I don't know a soul. I don't even know those people. We were supposed to meet at specific spot and they were going to have a sign. If I don't find them, I'm not sure what I'll do."

_Boundaries, Tara, boundaries_.

Tara sighed.

"Listen, there's a Holiday Inn right here by the airport and there are other hotels nearby if this one if full. Your confirmation for your reservation for the tour probably has a phone number to call in case of problems. If you need to, you can use my cell phone to make that call when we're out in the terminal, okay?"

Listening to herself, Tara laughed silently. _Why am I so fucking good at fixing other people's problems, but a jumble of WTFs when it comes to my own? _

"Thank you. I'm Maxine Fortenberry." The woman held out her hand.

"Tara Stackhouse." Smiling, she shook the older woman's hand warmly. "Pleased to meet you."

They walked together in a comfortable silence to the terminal gate. Realizing that the bustling gate packed with travelers wasn't conducive to Maxine's task, Tara offered a new suggestion.

"This place is too loud and busy. Why don't we just go to the ground transportation area? That's where your tour was supposed to meet up, right? We can just see if they waited for you or possibly got delayed."

Maxine nodded and proceeded to follow Tara's lead through the terminal. Finally they arrived at the ground transportation area. After confirming with an airport clerk that her tour had, in fact, left an hour earlier, Maxine sat and started to pull some papers out of her carryon bag. Tara decided it was time to switch her cell back on. Deciding to check her phone in private, Tara gestured to Maxine that she'd be right back before wandering off to an empty spot by a wall.

Maxine was squinting her near-sighted eyes at the tiny print confirmation trying to find a phone number to call when she heard a squeal. Looking up she saw Tara jumping up and down with a big smile on her face.

Tara doubled back to her new friend and tried to explain in a rush. "Maxine, my brother just got out of the Navy. I haven't heard from him in a while and I haven't seen him since my grandmother passed away. He's here now. In Shreveport. I have to call him. You look for the phone number and don't worry. It'll be okay."

Suddenly feeling that all was well in the world and would be from now on, Tara felt like sharing the positive energy. She smiled encouragingly at the older woman. Hitting redial on the number Jason's voicemail came in on, Tara screamed again when she heard her brother's voice answer in his 'military' voice.

"Stackhouse."

"JASON!"

"Hey, girl. How are you?"

"Jason, never mind the how. It's the where. I'm at the Shreveport Airport. I just got in. I came home to talk to Sookie. Oh. My. God. It is so good to hear your voice. Where the hell are you?"

"What. The. Fuck. Shit, Tara," Tara could hear squealing tires as her brother undoubtedly made an illegal U-turn, "I'm on my way to the Shreveport Airport. I was just on my way to Bon Temps, but a quick detour's not a problem. I'll be there in about 20 minutes. Thirty if I get pegged by the cops."

"Oh, wow, Jase. I can't believe you're home too. With both of us here, there's no way Sookie can sell the house."

"Damn right. I didn't go through all that for the past four years to come home to no home. Don't give another thought to worrying about losing the house, Tara. It ain't gonna happen. We just need to figure out how we can make it work, money-wise."

"Yeah, Jase, it's all I thought about on the plane. I've got some ideas."

"Good girl. Sook's always been the smartest, bossiest of all of us, but between the two of us, we should at least come in even. Or close."

Tara giggled. It felt so good to have an accomplice. And Jase was older now. Not the wild child he once was. She let out a breath. This would work out.

"Oh, Jase, I should mention. I may have inadvertently gotten us our first houseguest."

Tara proceeded to explain Maxine Fortenberry's dilemma.

"Well, you know what I say? The more the merrier. It's a 10-bedroom house. What the fuck's the fun in having a 10-bedroom house if you don't fill it with people? It's kind of late now, too, to do anything with her. If you can't help her meet up with her people and you don't want to leave her at the airport or a hotel, we'll just bring her to the farm."

After confirming their meet-up logistics, Tara and Jason hung up. Tara couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She knew she undoubtedly looked like a fucking loon, but she really didn't care. She went back to Maxine, gathered the older woman and their belongings and proceeded for the doors. In response to the older woman's questions,Tara started to give Maxine the abbreviated version of what brought her and her brother back to Bon Temps. Maxine was enthralled with the story. It occurred to Maxine that any time spent with her new friend and her friend's family might very well prove more interesting than anything the AARP tour group had planned.

Tara kept talking and answering Maxine's questions, but part of her remained in her own little happy bubble.

_Damn. Damn. Damn. It's gonna be so good to be home. _

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**AN: Hmmm...we all see where this is going, huh?**

**Thanks for reading. YAY! I know we've got a few new readers. Welcome aboard! I'm juggling like 10 fics (slight exaggeration) so if nothing else reviews/comments are a good way to remind me not to neglect this one. In the meantime, if you get bored waiting on this update, check out "The Dead Man of Shreveport."**


	11. The Homecoming

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

**AN: This is it. **

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**Chapter Eleven: The Homecoming**

The drive to Bon Temps took longer than Eric expected. For one thing, dark in rural Louisiana was not like dark anywhere else. Two, although his travel companions clearly knew the area, being eleven and twelve, the boys had –obviously– never driven and as they had always been chauffeured around by their older relatives, they had never had to give a non-native directions to the house. So Eric found himself overshooting turns, stopping short, slamming quick K-turns. He enjoyed his Corvette—so much so that he had arranged for it to be driven down from Los Angeles just so he could have it while he was filming. He was kind of regretting the beating it was currently taking. But, it was a car and it did need to serve a purpose. Besides, it was actually proving its handling capability, so that was good. Also, the boys were so happy it was contagious. Eric was sure his own smile must have seemed painted on by then.

Given the disjointed nature of their travels, when Eric prematurely turned off Hummingbird Lane and found himself on the hearse path of a cemetery, he wasn't altogether surprised. Grimacing, he stopped, ready to complete his seventh K turn of the drive, when Hoyt stopped him.

"No, no. This is good. The path winds the back way around the cemetery and hits a clearing but it's really a dirt path—the grass won't grow there—"

"Ame says its cursed with demon flesh!" Hunter interrupted.

"Anyway," Hoyt continued. "It leads to the side of the house. From the small mausoleum building it's a straight shot. We used to do it on our bikes all the time. Jase even put reflectors up for us."

_Reflectors? Well, in that case, the cemetery death path had better visibility than most of the state highways in Louisiana._

So that's how Eric, Hoyt, and Hunter came to be approaching the Stackhouse Farm from the interior circulation paths of the cemetery adjacent to the Stackhouse farm just when a big Silver Mercedes came bouncing down the pitted driveway.

True to her word, Pam had let Amelia take over the driving. It wasn't generosity that prompted her—generosity _rarely_ prompted Pam Ravenscroft to do _anything_. Once they got off I-49 and Pam couldn't do 90 mph anymore she just lost interest in driving. Combine that with all the trees, and the grass, and the darkness, Pam really just couldn't care less. So she turned to Amelia at that point and said,

"Okay. We hit Podunk. Your turn." She pulled over, climbed out and Amelia took over.

Teen arrogance aside, Amelia really could drive. Additionally, the Mercedes was a dream. The car practically floated the ride was so smooth. So the two were happily sailing along, in a calm peaceful state, when Pam heard Amelia sharply draw in a breath.

"Oh, my God!" The girl screamed. "We're here! We're here!"

The turnoff for the driveway came suddenly after a sharp curve in the road. Amelia slammed on the brakes to avoid overshooting the turn. She successfully managed the turn but she was still going too fast, especially as she left the smooth pavement of the road and hit the pitted gravel driveway. Apparently 'America's Most Wanted' hadn't cared too much about maintaining the driveway. The car hit hard into a deep-pitted rut in the driveway. Amelia turned the wheel quickly to assure they didn't get stuck. Her maneuver was successful, but the car tires spun out anyway. Heading directly for the giant Oak tree (No! Hunter's tree house!) Amelia banked the car sharply to the left and hit the brakes.

The Mercedes stopped. But not before having a low-impact collision with the Corvette that had suddenly appeared between the Oak tree and the side of the house.

What. The. Fuck. Amelia, staring ahead of her, was in shock that there hadn't been more noise. She figured the collision of the two automobiles should have made a loud clamor. But instead, the two cars just folded into each other, as their pricey, less impact-to-the-occupant engineering would have intended.

Eric looked into the silver car that had just hit him head-on. Fortunately (unfortunately?), two sets of halogen headlights lit the scene like a movie set. He should've been more interested in the teen-aged Cleopatra sitting behind the steering wheel but his eyes instead were glued to the blonde woman sitting in the passenger seat. He saw her eyes widen a miniscule and then slant into thin slits. Her jaw tightened, and her lips slid into a straight line, then a slight smirk, then a hard line again.

The cars had only been sitting there for a few seconds when the screaming began.

"HOYT! HUNTER!"

"AME!"

The three youngest Stackhouses jumped out the cars and engaged in a family huddle/hug fest next to the passenger side of the Corvette. Eric and Pam got out of their cars and continued their stare down slowly walking towards one another. Eric knew he should say something but he honestly had no idea what to say. Last time he had spoken to Pam—earlier that afternoon—she had chastised him for being a "pussy," and told him to"grow a pair." Feeling as though two separate spheres of the Eric Northman universe—two separate spheres that usually did not align—had suddenly collided, Eric found himself speechless. He didn't understand what Pam was doing there. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Uh-oh. His turn. Catching flies, as Gran would've said.

_Yep. I've drunk the kool-aid,_ he thought.

Finally, a ferocious look in her eye, Pam broke the silence. "How many did you find?"

"What?" Utterly bewildered, Eric just stared at his friend.

"You heard me, Northman. I said, 'How many?' How many Stackhouses? How many did you find?"

_Okay_, he thought. _We're competing? _"Two."

"Two! How dare you bring home two!"

In all the commotion, neither of Eric nor Pam nor any of the three kids had noticed a third car pull into the Stackhouse driveway. Three more adults poured out of the blue Volkswagen and quickly hurried over to join the congregation. At seeing their other siblings, Jason and Tara's expressions both went from shock to pleasure in a matter of seconds.

"Hey y'all!" Jason called out.

"JASE! TARA!" Hoyt, Hunter, and Amelia screamed out in unison. Hugs and kisses were flying. The Stackhouses, caught up in their own little world, were oblivious to the three guests who stood nearby, catching odd words and phrases here and there.

"Hoyt's so sweet, and Old Man Bellefleur is like a…a…serial dog killer. We gotta get Long Shadow back." This from Amelia.

"Ame's been collecting those books for forever. She shouldn't have to give them up. She says witchcraft is a dying art form." This from Hunter.

"Hunter doesn't say much about it anymore, but I know he misses the tree house. We don't have any fucking trees in Texas, much less a tree house." This from Hoyt.

Eric and Pam silently observed the family reunion. Not wanting to intrude on the Stackhouses, Maxine stationed herself next to the Hollywood duo. She smiled awkwardly, nodding at both Eric and Pam. If she recognized Eric, she gave no indication of it. Pam looked at the older woman and scowled.

"Who did you find?"

"What?" Maxine was not normally an overly timid woman, but this blonde lady scared the bejesus out of her.

"Who. Did. You. Find? Which Stackhouse?"

"Uh, I met Tara on the plane from New York."

At this Pam nodded.

First round of hugs done, one of the elder Stackhouses figured it was appropriate to say something to the two people whose $100,000 cars had just collided on the front lawn.

At Jason's approach, Eric smiled a greeting, "Jason."

Jason's eyes brightened with recognition and he smiled back greeting his dinner companion. "Eric."

Pam whirled on Eric, her eyes slanted into slits. She barked in an accusatory tone,

"You found Jason, too?"

"No, no. Laffy found Jason."

"Laffy found Jason? For Fucks Sake, Northman! Laffy was in on this? That narcissistic, self-indulgent queen scored one? What. The. Fuck. Northman. If I had been properly informed, I'm sure I would've been able to find more!"

Eric looked at Pam. He had always known she was crazy, but he never actually thought she was _Crazy._

Just then Pam went off on a new track. "Okay, so Laffy found Jason. Red, here" she jerked her head towards Maxine, "found Tara. I found Amelia, while you found Hoyt and Hunter. Gang's all here. Five-to-one. Two-to-one, adults. Game over."

With her quick and accurate assessment of the situation, Eric realized that Pam, too, had drunk the kool-aid. She was just as vested in this Stackhouse thing as he was. Internally he sighed. While initially he thought it would be fun to explain it all to her, he was relieved now that he didn't have to. At some point it just took on a life of its own. Best she be there to observe it with him. Hell, he wasn't even sure what the fuck was going on anymore.

Jason, looking around at the motley crew on the lawn, figured introductions, at the very least, would be appropriate.

"Hey, I'm Jason Stackhouse," Jason put a hand out to Pam.

"Pam Ravenscroft."

"Nice to meet you. This is Maxine Fortenberry." Maxine nodded and shook hands with Eric and Pam while Jason continued with the introductions.

As Tara left her younger siblings and made her way over to join the adults, Jason had just gotten started on the trying to square away their situation, starting with the cars.

"Listen up. A couple of things. I know you probably need to call your insurance companies and find repair places, but I gotta tell you these two cars," Jason gestured over to the uber-autos, "probably gotta go at least an hour to find a shop that'll touch 'em. Further if you want a licensed dealer.

"Second, its kind of late to get a hold of anyone now. You could get AAA to tow them, but you won't know where to send them. I can let you use my car tonight, if you need a car, and then we can work something out tomorrow with rentals. I ain't going anywhere right now. I just need to grab mine and Tara's and Maxine's stuff out of the trunk and then you two can go.

"Or, I know it's late. I don't know who's eaten, who hasn't. We got 10 bedrooms here. Everyone's free to crash. Not sure about the food situation but I can go pick up something.

"Last thing. I don't know what happened but suddenly it's looking like we're gonna get a mother of a storm. So we'd better lock down these cars. Should be tarp in the shed if any of the windows don't work."

As if on cue, thunder sounded in the distance followed up by a flash of lightning. The three kids, joining the adults, had heard the conclusion of Jason's speech.

Just then, the farm's porch light came on. There was a buzz as everyone turned to face the door. The moment of reckoning had come.

Eric moved slightly to the left to get a better view. He saw a good-looking guy in a casual dress shirt and slacks hanging in the doorway. He caught a flash of long blond hair. He heard them talking but as they were still pretty much inside the house, the words were indistinguishable. Finally, the man turned away from the person he was speaking with and for the first time saw the Corvette and the Mercedes joined like a 'V' flanking the Oak tree. Eric saw the man's eyes widen. Walking across the porch toward the steps, he leaned out for a better view. Seeing everyone huddled next to the house, the man grinned and shook his head. Although the smile was nearly imperceptible, Eric caught it.

"Hey, Sook," he called back to the person in the doorway. "I think there's something you need to see."

It was then that Eric caught his first glimpse of Sookie. The blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. Although she wore only jeans and a tee, she wore them both very, very well. He figured her image could easily be used to promote jeans and t-shirts for centuries to come.

Sookie finally stepped out onto the porch. She switched on the exterior lights. When JB had told her to she needed to see something out front, she figured it was a wolf or something. Wandering out onto the porch, she wasn't sure where he meant for her to look. Glancing to her right, the first thing she saw was the Indigo Blue Passat parked behind JB's Tahoe. She scrunched up her face with a quizzical look.

What. The. Fuck? Who's car was that?

Scanning to the left, her eyes grew to saucers as she was hit with the rest of the story.

She gasped although she seemed to recover quickly. Looking around, she attempted a quick inventory.

The two conjoined cars. _Make that two conjoined very expensive cars_.

All her siblings were there, including the one who was supposed to be finishing his stint in the Navy; the one who lived in New York; the 13 year old who should have been at school in New Orleans; and the 12 and 11 year olds who should have been safely at home with their aunt in San Antonio.

As for the stragglers...Sookie observed:

_A smug-looking blonde wearing a designer outfit and five-inch stilettos._

_An older, crisp-looking woman with short red hair and a rather wide-eyed expression._

_And rounding out the misfit brigade... none other than People's Sexiest Man Alive Eric Northman? Okay, this is just fucked up_.

The silence was as deafening, as the tension was palpable. It was obvious that battle lines had been drawn. As she moved closer, Sookie still stood alone on the porch, while her five siblings and their—friends? Guests? WTFs? stood gathered by the newest Stackhouse lawn ornament, 'Great Oak Meets Decadent Luxury Automobiles'.

Eric, meanwhile, his attention on Sookie, was studying her the same way a lion might study an antelope. Having spent the better part of three hours with her siblings over the course of the day, he thought he had a pretty good understanding of what would come next. There it was. Perfect pink lips opened. Perfect pink lips closed. Opened. Closed. Eric unconsciously licked his lips.

Finally Jason decided it was time to take action. Bounding up the porch steps, he caught his older sister in a big hug. "Sook, girl. You're catching flies!" After a few moments of finding comfort in her brother's embrace, Sookie found her voice.

"Geez, Jase. What the hell!" she attempted to shake herself out of her stupor, "I can't believe you're home! Oh My God. It's so good to see you!"

**As Eric watched Jason hug Sookie and then proceed to give his sister a big kiss, Eric felt a strange twinge. Having trouble identifying the feeling, he was shocked when he realized what it was: for the first time in a long time, he was watching another man play a role he coveted. **

A moment later, a second clap of thunder sounded. This time rain started to fall, coming down fast in huge drops that seemed intent on soaking them all.

"Well, hell. Everyone get their shit, and get in the house!" At Jason's directive, everyone came out of their reveries and quickly began to grab their stuff from the cars and make their way into the house.

Pam grabbed Amelia's shoulder as they walked up the steps. Jerking her head upward, gesturing to the sky, which had really opened up and was letting loose a torrential downpour, she asked,

"Did you do this?"

Amelia smiled and waggled her eyebrows.

Pam smirked back at her.

"Remember. That outfit's mine. Don't get it wet."

Amelia nodded and they strolled into the house, their arms linked.

**

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**

**AN: Vamp Winter –in an original review for this chapter - likened the story to an old-time Disney movie. I totally agree. I read the original Cadell book when I was 12 and it always played like a movie in my head. **

**Pam: How awesome is Pam channeling Carole Lombard from "My Man Godfrey"? **

**FYI: In the Cadell original, 'Jason' buys a second-hand motorcycle with sidecar and encounters 'Tara' and 'Maxine' on the road to home. 'Amelia' steals a bicycle and crashes into 'Pam' who then joins her on her journey. 'Eric' brings 'Hoyt' and 'Hunter' home in his Rolls Royce. When they all converge at the house simultaneously, 'Eric' drives his car into a ditch to avoid hitting anyone. The bold line is a near verbatim from the Cadell book. There was just no other way to say it. **

**THANK YOU FOR READING! Please review! Love feedback and need ideas for the sequel. Every little bit helps. Thanks. :)**


	12. Sookie, Shaken and Stirred

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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**Chapter Twelve: Sookie, Shaken and Stirred**

With the heavy rain coming down, it did not take long for the house—empty for nearly a month—to start to feel warm and cozy. While Sookie had been expecting a wave of insurrection from the kids, they miraculously didn't want to discuss the imminent sale of the house. Instead, in less than an hour, they had totally acclimated themselves to being home. They reclaimed their rooms, bemoaning the minor changes wrought by "the felons." They examined every nook and cranny, investigated the remodeled bathrooms and the new half-bath, and checked to see that their games were still there. Amelia criticized the Moen hardware in the bathrooms, indicating her preference for Kohler. After their whirlwind house tour, Sookie managed to get the three to settle down in the study with some board games.

Tara and JB, meanwhile, didn't take long to rediscover one another. Sookie, curious about Tara's job situation, was interested in having a little quality time with her sister. But, one look at Tara — who was barely able to pull her eyes from JB — and Sookie knew there would be no talking to Tara until JB left. And when JB was leaving was anyone's guess. 'Never' was one possibility. He looked like he didn't ever want to let Tara out of his sight again.

Prodded by the ever-purposeful Maxine, Jason—with Maxine's help — was busy checking that the bedrooms had everything they needed. Clean linens and towels were being located and placed and the bathrooms were checked for soap and toothpaste. Jason took it upon himself — in his new role of 'host'— to assign rooms. To aid him in this effort, he drew a little diagram of the house's two wings which he used to explain to the 'guests' their room locations.

Where were the other guests? The 'Hollywood Contingent'— as Sookie had dubbed Eric and Pam in her mind — were nowhere to be found. If there had been any rational reason for it, Sookie would almost swear that Eric Northman was avoiding her. She was making the rounds through the house—just hoping to get a handle of everything. Each time she arrived in a room where she knew Eric had just been, he was gone. It was like he could sense her presence ahead of time and, aware that she was approaching, he would flee.

Exasperated, she finally decided she'd just let the kids play, let Jase and Maxine handle the domestics, let Tara and JB figure their shit out, and she'd focus her attention on putting together something to eat. It was nearly ten o'clock. She had had dinner—lunch? linner?—something earlier but she was hungry. She had no clue who had or hadn't eaten. She did know they were an easily covetous bunch, so if one was eating, it was safest to just make sure everyone ate.

Stepping into the kitchen to prepare soup and sandwiches, it was at this point Sookie found the Hollywood Contingent. Pam and Eric were there—complete with aprons over their designer duds—preparing dinner? WTF? It was with considerable effort, Sookie managed to hide her astonishment.

While Sookie definitely felt Maxine was watching the unfolding family drama with a sense of curiosity — she was far more suspicious of the Hollywood Contingent who she felt was observing them all like it was some damn science experiment. Or possibly a script idea? Despite the absolute annoyance she felt at their intrusion, it was still her duty –as well as a core tenet of her upbringing—to demonstrate warm Southern hospitality. Attempting to mask her incredulity at finding the Hollywood duo in her family's kitchen, Sookie plastered a too-wide smile on her face.

"Hey, y'all. You didn't have to do that. I was just coming in here to open a few cans of soup and put out some cold cuts for sandwiches….Uh…what have you got going on?" Sookie could see what they had going on, and was pretty impressed.

"We defrosted the chicken breasts, found eggs, and bread crumbs and are making Chicken Ravenscroft. The Northman," Pam, whose hands were covered in egg, jerked her head towards Eric who was cutting vegetables, "is making his famous Big Salad. We're also steaming carrots and making rice pilaf. There were three boxes in the cabinet."

"Yeah. I…uh…went shopping today. I kind of bought a lot thinking I wouldn't have to go back much since I was only going to be here a few weeks. Now," Sookie suddenly snorted, "I'll be lucky if the groceries see us through until the end of the weekend."

Eric and Pam exchanged a look.

Although laughing and seemingly in control, it was obvious to the two that Sookie was somewhat in shock over the day's events. Pam rinsed her hands and dried them on her apron.

"Sookie," Pam took Sookie's hands in her own, led her to take a seat, and then offered up the best solution she could imagine. "Where's the liquor? Eric and I checked all the cabinets. It's not in the kitchen. Is it in one of the other rooms? Did the narcs take it when they hauled your tenants away?"

Sookie stared at Pam wondering if the woman was mocking her and her family's unfortunate tenant situation. Searching Pam's eyes, she was startled to find that the woman's comment appeared to not be coming from a place of malice. Sookie let out a breath.

"No, we still have liquor. Not a lot but some stuff. There's a cabinet in the living room. By the book shelf. I didn't leave anything open. So if it's an open bottle, it was the tenants'. Let's steer clear of that and just dump it. I don't know what those people were up to." Sookie turned to Eric who was heading out the doorway. "Bring back something unopened, please!"

Eric nodded with a slight smile and disappeared. _Pam decided to play nice. Good girl,_ he thought.

Pam went back to her dinner preparations. Although Pam had plenty of ideas and opinions about the Stackhouse Dilemma, she made the decision not to initiate any discussion about the house. For one thing, it wasn't Pam's battle to fight. Second, she was feeling rather bad for the girl who likely felt hammered from all sides, except, of course, from the Eric side. But that, she figured, was just a matter of time. Eric's total eyefucking of Sookie when she first came outside had not been lost on Pam. Not someone easily smitten, Eric obviously had it bad for the girl. Despite the rock on her finger.

Pam smirked to herself. Finally, she decided on a safe topic. Well, a topic.

"Your sister is quite resourceful." Pam was quite the Amelia fan. The girl really did remind her of herself. And Pam was the ultimate Pam fan.

Sookie seemed to come out of her brain fog at Pam's words. "Yeah, uh, Pam. I have to thank you for giving Ame a lift. I am very sorry about your car."

"Oh. Think nothing of it. It was a fun trip. Amelia's amusing. And don't worry about the car," she shrugged. "It was Northman's fault anyway."

Sookie fixed her gaze on Pam. She appeared to be mentally bracing herself for the question that she had to ask. Finally, she was ready. "How is it that you came to be giving Ame a lift to Bon Temps?"

_Hmm_, Pam thought, _what to say? _

_Lie? _

_Truth? _

_Lie? _

_Truth? _

_Yes_, thought Pam.

"We struck up a conversation one day." [_**Today**_] "Found we had some common interests." [**_School girl outfits, girls, revenge._**] "I invited her to carpool with me next time she needed to travel north and it coincided with my travel plans." [**_Also today. Well-done!_****] **

Out of the corner of her eye, Pam saw the precise moment when Sookie's eyes narrowed, her jaw hardened, and her nostrils flared. Excited, Pam realized it was Barracuda Sookie —as Eric had so eloquently put it —taking over as Shaken Sookie slid into the background.

_The little minx is angry_, Pam thought.

"Yes, Pam," Sookie stared at the other blonde, her eyes unwavering. "But you only met her _today_."

"Well, I never said I didn't," Pam replied, not unreasonably to Sookie's chagrin. Sookie let out an angry snort.

"And did I get this part right? Amelia was _driving_ the Mercedes when it crashed into the Corvette?"

_Delicious_. Pam could practically see the steam coming out of Sookie's ears. _She's probably a spitfire in bed. I should tell Eric he definitely needs to hit that. _

"Yes, Amelia and I agreed to split the driving. It was simply her turn." Pam knew she was baiting the girl but it really couldn't be helped. No, make that it was really just too much fun.

"For Fucks Sake! You do know Amelia is only 13, right? It's not legal for her to be driving! She doesn't have a driver's license! And she also apparently lacks any common sense as well!"

Pam's eyes slanted at Sookie's final comment. If there was one thing that could be said about Pam Ravenscroft, it was that she could be very possessive. Her own mother had maintained that the first word out of Baby Pam's mouth had been "mine." But Pam was never possessive about things, only about people. She could be absolutely vicious if someone attacked one of 'hers'. And Amelia Stackhouse was now one of 'hers'. Pam wasn't about to let this blond, uptight control freak get away with disparaging her friend, even if she was the girl's older sister and guardian.

"You listen to me," Pam started. "That girl has more common sense and spunk than most people two, three times her age. I let her drive because she knows how to drive, she knows these roads, and I trusted she was more likely to get us here –to her _home_-"

Sookie, reading Pam's emphasis on the word 'home' as a not-so-subtle dig at her handling of the house situation, opened her mouth with a retort. But Pam was not having any of it. She continued her diatribe without missing a beat.

"I trusted she was more likely to get us here," she continued, "in one piece, than I was. I knew she'd be better than I was at driving these pitch black haunted Podunk roads. As for me? I was half-expecting a werewolf to jump out at every turn. And, for the record, she is an excellent driver. I would let her drive my Mercedes again in a heartbeat. It wasn't until we hit your pit-filled sorry excuse for a driveway that the car spun out. For that matter, Northman drove out of a fucking cemetery clearing. If he hadn't she would have rolled to a stop and there would have been no damage to anything." Pam finally paused here. "So, don't lecture me about letting Amelia drive. Instead, I suggest you get some estimates on graveling your driveway and putting a fucking fence in the clearing."

Pam had been slicing carrots as she spoke so nearly every word was punctuated by the slam of the knife hitting the cutting board.

By the time Eric returned a few minutes later, the tension between the two blondes was palpable. Eric, seeing Sookie and Pam engaged in a stare down, frowned.

_Fuck_, he thought. _I leave for five fucking minutes_.

Sookie let out an angry breath and, mumbling that there was something she needed to tend to, stormed out of the kitchen.

Eric remained standing, wine bottle in hand, and shot Pam a quizzical look. When she remained silent, Eric quirked an eyebrow at her, his unspoken question hanging in the silence.

Finally Pam sighed. "Well? What did you think would happen? You know me. And you've heard about her from the boys. What did you think would happen when you left us alone together?"

Eric let out a breath and then smiled at Pam's assessment. _Fuck, she's right. _

"For what it's worth, Northman, I like her. I think," Pam made an 'all this' gesture with her hand, "taking on too much at a young age has just made her the ultimate control freak. I think, if she's allowed to let loose a bit, she could actually be quite pleasant." Pam paused. "She's exactly the type I always envisioned for you."

Eric couldn't have been more shocked by Pam's words. She knew him so well. "You know she's engaged, right?"

Pam snickered. "You mean 'Douche Bag Bill'? Amelia filled me in on their favorite car game. It's coming up with derogatory terms for Bill using every letter of the alphabet."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. A is for ASSHOLE. B is for BASTARD. C is for COCKSUCKER. D is –"

"Yeah, Pam. I think I get it."

"They were able to do it the entire travel time between San Antonio and Dallas. No repeats."

"How long is that drive?"

"Four-and-a-half hours."

"How did they manage that?"

"Well, I think their Uncle Felipe helps. Hoyt and Hunter have picked up some key Spanish terms from him. Amelia is good with French."

"So it's not limited to English?"

"Where's the fun in that, Eric? This way they actually have words they can use in front of him. I think it's brilliant. I may even have to reconsider my stance on 'teacup humans.' I could grow to like those kids."

Shaking his head, Eric readily agreed to Pam's assessment of the kids. They were sharp and a lot of fun. But his mind quickly wandered back to the earlier part of their conversation.

Sookie.

Uptight, control freak Sookie who obviously resented his intrusion into her family's business.

Engaged Sookie who was moving permanently to Dallas.

Sookie with the blond hair, blue eyes, and curves that wouldn't quit.

_How_, he wondered, _am I going to make that happen_?

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**AN: How did you like the sneak peak of the Barracuda? She gets worse. Please review. I love hearing feedback and I'm stockpiling ideas for the sequel. **

**Funniest Character Poll: I have a Funniest Character poll on my FF profile page. Pam is currently in the lead followed closely by Hunter. The other candidates are Amelia, Eric, Sookie, and Bill. You could use your reviews to help you track who to vote for! I know what you're thinking: Funny? Just wait. You'll see. I promise.**


	13. Eric Says We Need Snuggle

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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**Chapter Thirteen: Eric Says We Need Snuggle**

While it had definitely been time to end her warm-and-fuzzy with Pam, Sookie hadn't been lying when she said she was leaving because there was something she needed to tend to. There had been something, or rather someone, who she needed to tend to. Tara.

Engaged in her stare down with Pam, Sookie had been struck by how quiet it was in the kitchen. Given the tin roof on the kitchen peninsula, that kind of quiet could only mean one thing: the rain had stopped. If the rain had stopped, then maybe–just maybe – JB had decided to take advantage of the break in the monsoon and go home. If he had gone home, then maybe this would give Sookie her chance to speak with Tara.

So, upon leaving Eric and Pam in the kitchen, Sookie had gone to look for her sister. After playing Magellan throughout the house —_ Is everyone fucking avoiding me_?—she finally found Tara in the laundry room putting linens in the washing machine.

"Tara, hon, I was hoping we could talk a bit?" Sookie leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed in front of her.

Looking up at her older sister, Tara gave a smile. "Sure, Sook. What's up?"

"Well, I was kinda wondering what happened with your job?"

Tara let out a breath. "Oh, that. Yeah, I...uh...quit. I told them to take my last paycheck and shove it."

Sookie's shock over her sister's words was clearly evident by the look of disbelief etched in her face.

"But Tara, I don't understand. You were looking to get a promotion a few weeks back. Why would you just quit all of a sudden? Was it because you didn't get the promotion?"

Looking at her sister, Tara bobbed her head back and forth as she considered how to answer Sookie's question. Finally, after a deep breath, she replied.

"No, Sook," she said, shaking her head. "It wasn't anything like that. I just wasn't happy. In fact, I was miserable. I didn't like living in New York. I didn't like my job. I wasn't having much fun. So when I saw your email this morning, it was a wake up call. The idea that we could lose the house—," Tara shook her head, "it was just too much. I decided I couldn't sit back and let that happen."

Sookie, staring intently at Tara, was trying to absorb her sister's words.

"Tara, honey, you mean to tell me _you were never happy there_? Not once in the entire year?"

"Nope, Sook, I never was."

"Oh, sweetie, why didn't you tell me? Of course you didn't have to stay in New York if you didn't like it! You could come out by me in Dallas. Or you could go to San Antonio. Or New Orleans—I know you still have friends there. You still can. You can check any of these places out and see if you like them. I can help you with money. You know that. Hey, if you stayed with me in Dallas," Sookie pointed out, "you could get to know Bill, too. He's gonna be your brother-in-law before too long."

"Uh, yeah, I could get to know Bill." Tara didn't even try to feign enthusiasm about this idea. "I guess I could've done any of that all along. I realize it now. Maybe if I wasn't so stupid, so stubborn, or so in denial, I could've called it like I saw it, but I just kept thinking that something was gonna change eventually. I didn't want to act rash. Especially since I made such a big deal of going out there to begin with. And, honestly, Sook," Tara's voice caught a little, "I know it was hard for you, worrying about all of us all the time. I wanted to just take care of myself and be a big girl. You know?"

Shrugging her shoulder, Tara gave her sister an impish grin.

Sookie looked at Tara. Really looked at her. Not as the younger sister she had been but as the young woman she was now. There was definitely a change to Tara. More backbone. She seemed older, wiser, less restless. When did that happen?

Since their conversation seemed to have run its course for the time being, Sookie thought she'd tackle the other elephant in the room.

"Did you and JB have a nice talk?"

Tara blushed at mention of JB's name. Glancing up, she met her sister's gaze.

"Uh, yes. Real nice." Giggling, she smiled. Sookie noted the way her eyes seemed to light up. "Sook, he's as wonderful as he's always been. He's not seeing anyone. Aside from a stray date here and there, he hasn't seen anybody since I left. He doesn't blame me for going. He gets it. He understands why I wanted to go. Now that I'm back, he's happy just to welcome me home."

"Sweetie, I'm so happy for you." Moving away from the doorway, Sookie stepped closer to Tara and gathered her in her arms.

"Thanks Sook. Yeah, it was so good just talking to him. You know? A normal one-to-one with a guy after a year of fucktarded, subtext-filled mind games—" Tara shook her head at the memory.

Sookie couldn't help but wonder about the guys Tara had been dating. She watched her sister's face as the girl continued to recount her experiences.

"I mean, sure, at first they would seem like sweet little pussy cats, playful and cute, and then it's like a full moon comes out and suddenly they're fucking tigers, angsty mama's boys, or Neanderthals with 'babe, this' and 'babe, that." Tara started to laugh. "The worst of them are all three! And I swear, Sook, it's like half of them were on their period!"

Sookie burst out laughing at her sister's recap of her year spent on the New York City dating scene.

"Shit, Tara. To hear you talk, the New York dating pool is filled with John Quinns!"

"No shit!"

They slipped into easy, comfortable girl talk, bouncing wedding and honeymoon ideas back and forth between them. It didn't take long for the psychological distance of the past year's separation to fade away.

"Hey, Tar, did the dryer cycle finish?" Jason, on assignment from Maxine, popped in to check on the sheets. "Did you find the softener sheets? Oh, and before I forget, Eric recommends 'Snuggle' softener."

Sookie and Tara exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

"Does he now?" This from Sookie; her eyes were dancing.

"Well, yeah," Jason nodded. "He was helping me turn over a couple of the mattresses and we got to talking about fabric softeners. He says Snuggle is the only one he lets his housekeeper buy."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "What kind of men stand around talking about fabric softener anyway?"

"Huh? Real men can talk about fabric softener. I happen to be comfortable in my masculinity. So's Eric." He shrugged. "Maybe it's 'cos we like to spend quality time in bed."

"Ew!" Tara shook her head. "TMI!"

"Yeah, Jase," Sookie frowned. "I damn sure don't need a visual of Eric Northman's 'quality time' in bed!"

Jason looked at his two sisters. "You two are something else, you know that? I was talking about _sleeping_!" Jason ran his fingers through his hair. "Anyhow, Maxine asked me to pick up the sheets and I thought I'd just mention the Snuggle thing before I forgot. That's all. I can't help it if you two got dirty minds."

Grinning, Tara looked over at Jason. Shaking her head, she leaned over to start pulling the clean sheets from the dryer. "I don't know, Jason," she continued. "I'm not sure what to think. Sook's got a point."

"Uh-huh. I agree with Tara," Sookie nodded. "I mean, here, I've known you your entire life. I thought I had a pretty good handle on what makes you tick. Suddenly you surprise me. One day you're all about womanizing and hell-raising with Rene Lenier and Dove Beck. The next," she paused to laugh, "the next you're all about making beds and taking care of the linens with Maxine Fortenberry." She paused to laugh again. "I'm glad you found someone who shares your interests. Maybe the two of you can take a class in flower arrangement at the flower shop."

Not happy being the butt of Sookie's wicked sense of humor, Jason gave his sister the evil eye. Sookie just continued to laugh.

"Oh, Sook, you know what?" Tara couldn't let an opportunity pass. "Maybe when Maxine reschedules her AARP plantation tour, Jase can go with her!"

At Tara's suggestion, both girls burst into hysterical laughter. Doubled over, Sookie and Tara quickly found themselves literally on the floor, their legs no longer capable of supporting them. Alternating silent guffaws and wheezing sounds, both girls' faces were quickly streaked with tears from laughing so hard.

Jason, meanwhile, just stared at his two sisters having a laughing fit on the floor. He wasn't really angry. They had a point. He _was_ different from the man he had been. Still, they didn't need to pass out in hysterics, did they? _Fuck it, _he thought, _it wasn't that friggin funny, was it? Fucking sisters._

"You know, Maxine's a real nice person," he told them. "I could probably do a lot worse. Besides, I think it's trendy to date a cougar. Now, if you'll let me get my sheets, Maxine's waiting for me. We've got some beds to make."

With that Jason picked up the laundry basket Tara had filled with clean linens and began to make his exit.

Before he could escape, though, Sookie had one last parting shot.

"Jase." At Sookie's voice, Jason paused in the doorway and looked down at his sisters. "Maybe Eric and Pam can help us get you on that cable show…what the hell is it?…You know the one? Where they train men? Oh, I know! It's called "**Queer Eye for the Straight Guy**"! Only you could be one of the metrosexuals. You know. You could train one of the men who needs help! 'Cos you're so….I don't even know how to describe him. Tar?"

"I dunno. Clean?" Tara burst out laughing again while Sookie's eyes opened wide.

"Yes! That's it, Jase! You're so _clean_….You could counsel other guys who need to…you know…learn how to become_ clean_…"

Sookie and Tara looked at each other and promptly erupted into new peals of laughter. Jason just shook his head and left his two sisters sprawled on the laundry room floor.

"Oh, Jesus, Tar! It's a good thing I'm next to a washing machine," Sookie choked out. "I think I just peed my pants."

"Oh, Sook," Tara was gasping. "This is…the most…." She was attempting to breathe, without much success. "This was the most exercise I've had in months. I think I hurt myself."

_Well_, thought Sookie when she finally could string together a coherent thought, _who the fuck knows what tomorrow is gonna bring, but at least we're all here now and we can enjoy being together_.

Then, as a delayed reaction, she remembered what had started it all.

_Snuggle. Eric Northman says we need Snuggle. WTF?_

_

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_

**AN: You all still hate Tara? New readers and rereaders, anyone can review. I love feedback and I'm stockpiling ideas for the sequel.**

**Funniest Character Poll: Just to remind you about the Funniest Character poll on my FF profile page. Pam is even more in the lead now because another person voted for her. ****There was also a poll on my blog that Hunter won!**


	14. The Road from San Antonio

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

**

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**

**Chapter Fourteen: The Road from San Antonio**

A short time later, everyone settled down in the dining room to partake in Pam's Chicken Ravenscroft and Eric Northman's 'Big Salad.' The chicken was perfect—juicy and tender on the inside, crispy on the outside. Luckily Sookie had picked up juice—the kids were not into water, while the adults had finally popped open a couple of bottles of wine.

As they sat at the table, Sookie glanced from person to person—almost as if in a trance. She'd pinched herself twice to assure herself that it was not, in fact, some kind of dream. Not only were all her siblings home, but they had also quickly and effortlessly fallen right back into their old groove. Everyone looked perfectly at home. They _were_ at home. Even, Sookie realized to her chagrin, the three strays. It was incredible. The surreal nature of the evening had even given Sookie an idea for a Hallmark card. On the outside of the card would be a photograph of their motley crew having dinner. When you open up the card, it would simply say "What the fuck." Or maybe just "WTF."

WTF indeed.

Tara and Amelia were sitting on either side of Pam. From the tidbits Sookie caught here and there, it sounded like they were alternately talking about fashion in New York and what Ame could do to reverse her blue black hair color.

Hoyt and Hunter were telling Maxine about the tree house. Sookie smiled as she listened. The boys were assuring the older woman that the ladder—heavy and solid with 3-inch planks—would easily accommodate her and she shouldn't hesitate to come up for a visit, although maybe not tomorrow. They were anxious to check it out and make sure the 'crooks' didn't do anything to mess it up.

Hmm. Jason had his head together with Eric Northman. They were a bit too far for Sookie to hear their low conversation and since she wasn't a mind reader, nor a lip reader, she hadn't a clue what they were plotting. She'd encountered Eric's eye a few times and would've sworn he was watching her when she wasn't looking.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion come over her, Sookie let out a sigh. Sipping her wine, she set her mind back to the origin of the current WTF mess. Her emails.

She hadn't realized the kind of tailspin her emails would cause. She really thought her siblings would have realized without her even telling them that selling the house was the inevitable next step in the progression. Certainly, they hadn't talked about any of them moving back to the house.

They lost (well, technically, they weren't 'lost'- ha ha) their tenants. After that fucked up fiasco, Sookie didn't think anyone would blame her for not wanting to take on new tenants. It was too risky. And what if she wound up with more 'criminal element'? What then? She, for one, did not enjoy having a one-to-one with the FBI.

Casting her gaze around the table again, she couldn't help but feel that they were all ganging up on her.

_Hmm_, she thought, _that's because they are_. _They even brought —what? Reinforcements? Or in the case of Eric Northman, an understudy_?

She sniggered silently to herself.

JB had finally extricated himself from Tara. Or maybe Tara had finally pushed him out the door? Either way, that definitely seemed to be picking up right where it left off. Since JB left—and presumably was reporting everything back to Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane—Sookie had been half expecting Aunt Jane to come running over, despite the monsoon outside. Aunt Jane was a big Eric Northman fan. Sookie remembered talking to her on the phone a few months earlier and Jane saying how she'd just watched Northman's latest movie, something about an Army troop in Iraq. Sookie knew from reading reviews that there were some pretty graphic war scenes in the film so she asked her aunt what she thought of the war scenes. Aunt Jane's response had been priceless: "What war scenes?" Sookie smiled at the memory, shaking her head.

Yep. She couldn't deny that the man definitely had some off-the-scale good looks. Apparently those good looks rendered his movie fan minions enthralled to the point that they were incapable of recalling the details of his films. She figured this way they'd have to keep going back to see each movie multiple times.

_I guess,_ she thought, _its like Lewis Black's skit on Alzheimers' patients caught between two Starbucks._ Struggling not to laugh at the idea that Eric Northman's good looks effectively hypnotized movie audiences forcing them to return again and again, Sookie kept her mouth in a straight line. But her eyes belied her amusement.

Sensing someone watching her, Sookie looked up and met a pair of clear blue eyes staring at her. No, not _at her_. More like _through_ her. His eyes were…smoldering…The look in them—the heat in them—caught her off-guard and took her breath away. Feeling a blush work its way across her features, she silently cursed and turned her attention down to her plate.

Eric, in the meantime, had been darting intermittent glances around the table throughout his conversation with Jason. He had tried to distribute these looks—hoping that they did not appear too obviously focused on Sookie. But they were directed on Sookie. Of course.

Eric had been listening with interest to Jason's experiences in the military. The man was a natural storyteller. Eric didn't want to say anything prematurely, but he thought some of Jason's stories could be incorporated into the script for his next war film. He'd have to consult with Pam but Eric was seriously thinking they could get Jason a co-writer credit if they used the stories.

If they were able to make that happen, it would mean cash in hand, and that could only help Jason and the other Stackhouses. Especially as it was obvious—at least to Eric, maybe not yet to the stubborn blonde seated at the opposite end of the table—that Jason now regarded himself as the head of this family.

Eric had been observing Sookie when she suddenly looked up. Meeting her eyes, he could see she was trying hard to stifle a laugh. Her blue eyes were clear and guileless. She hardly looked like the formidable threat—the enemy—her siblings had been portraying her as. She looked…vulnerable…sweet…gorgeous. He couldn't help but stare at her and after a moment he noticed she caught her breath sharply and then the most delightful pink flush rose in her cheeks and traveled downward. She met his stare, refusing to back down, a silent battle of wills. It –quite literally—pained Eric to pull his eyes off Sookie and re-establish eye contact with Jason. But that's just what he forced himself to do. His acting skills came in handy just then as he resumed his conversation with Jason, and pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

But what had occurred was far from ordinary.

How was this girl he barely knew eliciting such a strong feeling in him?

Pam was right. He was a pussy.

Suddenly Sookie arose from her seat with an "excuse me." Minutes later, she returned, reclaiming her spot at the table.

Jason was looking at her expectantly. An unspoken question hung in the air. Sookie shrugged sheepishly.

"I had my cell phone recharging and I forgot about it. Turns out when I set it up to recharge, I accidentally hit the "no volume" button—I really don't understand how they design these iPhones. Anyway, I just remembered my phone now and it turns out I got a bunch of calls today." Sookie directed pointed looks at Amelia, Hoyt and Hunter.

Without another word, Sookie began checking her voicemails. Eric tried to keep his focus on Jason but he couldn't help but look at Sookie. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Pam doing the same. Eric thought watching Sookie listen to her voicemails a delightful exercise. She could be very mobile with her facial expressions. It was fascinating to watch the progression of her response as she got news that pissed her off. Her face would start off calm and collected. As she'd listen to a message, her features would take on an interested look. Brow raised in surprise. Lips tightened in displeasure. Slight 'WTF' look. Then anger. Then repeat. Finally, done, she cleared her throat. Her siblings knew that sound well. And they knew that look well. Okay, this was the Barracuda Sookie that everyone feared. Looking at her now, Eric saw her eyes held this icy veil of anger. The dinner conversations all came to a halt as everyone turned to look at Sookie. Sookie's gaze had settled on the two boys.

_Ah_, Eric thought. _Aunt Linda._

Right then Eric decided he would do whatever was necessary to support 'his' boys, Sookie's hotness be damned. He wasn't so shallow he would throw Hoyt and Hunter under the bus just because their sister was perhaps one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen and he felt that he could easily lose himself in her eyes for the next 20 years.

_No, Northman. Focus, focus_.

Everyone's attention on Sookie, finally she spoke. "I have three voicemails from Aunt Linda and one from Felipe de Castro. Before I tell you what they say, why don't you tell me exactly what the hell you two did today?"

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged guilty glances. Finally Hoyt, running his fingers through his hair in the same way Jason often did, started to explain. "Well, after we read your email, we figured we needed to come home. Last year, you said we'd 'revisit' in a year and so we figured it was time for us to revisit, since you were here and all."

"You took the word, 'revisit' to literally mean visiting the house? It didn't sound like the word 'revisit' was to revisit the plan to sell the house?"

"You said we were gonna revisit, Sook," Hunter injected. "That's what we did!"

Sookie glared at Hunter who quickly fell silent. "Hoyt, go on."

"So made a plan to come home. We went to the Greyhound station and bought bus tickets with our savings. We met Eric in Shreveport—by the bus depot—and he agreed to drive us home."

"Yep. That's what we did today." Hunter chimed in.

Sookie drew in a breath. "What did you tell Aunt Linda?"

"Uh. We left her a voicemail that we were going home and that you'd call her." This from Hoyt.

"When were you going to tell me to call her?"

"We forgot." Hoyt replied.

"Sook, we'd remember eventually –" This from Hunter. Sookie flashed a look on Hunter. 'Be quiet' that look said. He wisely stopped speaking and let his older brother respond to the inquisition.

"What about school?"

"I wrote a note to the principal that we couldn't go to school because we had family business to tend to."

Sookie's eyes became slits and her next words were accusing. "Don't you need a guardian's signature on a note like that?"

"I signed Aunt Linda's name."

At Hoyt's admission, Sookie simply nodded. "What about your babysitter?"

"I left her a voice mail that we didn't need her because Aunt Linda was picking us up."

Sookie seemed to take a deep breath. She closed her eyes and Eric could've sworn she was counting. _Anger management issues?_

Finally she spoke.

"Aunt Linda—apparently- spent most of the day in hysterics, worried about you two. Frankly I'm surprised we haven't seen Bud or Kenya over here. She said something about calling the Sheriff to find you two. She thinks you two are old enough to know better. She's scared Social Services are going to find out and send investigators over. She said she's been worried that it was all too much to manage and she's thinking it's best you two don't go back there. Felipe ripped me a new one for you two upsetting her and Hadley," at this Sookie rolled her eyes, "by association. Whatever. He won't marry her, but at least he seems to care about her and the baby ….So…what do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a glance. Eric, being well-versed in non-verbal communication, and having spent a few hours with the boys, was now able to read their silent communication. They were weighing their options. Be contrite? Or be honest?

Hoyt took a breath and bit the bullet.

"Sook, we did what we felt we had to do. We don't want you to sell the house. It's our home, too," Hoyt's eyes blurred at this point and Eric felt a catch in _his_ throat. "We didn't think you'd listen to us if we just sent an email or called you. And we wanted to come home. There's no room at Aunt Linda's. And Felipe keeps dropping hints about moving to Las Vegas," Hoyt shuddered at this, "and we don't want to move to Las Vegas. That place is creepy."

Sookie stared at her brother. Immobile now. Her face revealed nothing.

_Hmm_, Pam thought, _this girl could've been an amazing actress_.

Sookie turned to Hunter. "Hunt, you got anything to add?"

"Yeah, you said to let you know what we wanted. But you can't store Long Shadow for Hoyt. There's no way Ame could keep all her books at school. And you can't ship my tree house to me. So, in _essence_, you made an_unreasonable _request." Pam's jaw nearly dropped at the kid's vocabulary. "It could not have _elicited_ any response other than _confusion_."

Eric had to bite back a laugh. Hunter basically parroted back Eric's words from their earlier conversation during the car ride from Shreveport.

As if Sookie somehow knew this, she whirled around to glare at Eric. He just nodded and smiled pleasantly. He was proud of 'his' boys. Turned out, they didn't need his help after all.

Taking a few measured breaths, Sookie considered her words. Everyone else—including the Hollywood Contingent and Maxine—just waited with bated breath.

"Well, it seems that you are no longer welcome in San Antonio. I'm not saying you two are staying in Bon Temps, but you're clearly not going back there." Her tone was brusque and matter-of-fact as she informed them of this. Catching Hoyt and Hunter exchange a glance that looked suspiciously triumphant, her anger skyrocketed. "However, this was the most _fucked up stunt_ I have ever heard of! You two are _not_ old enough to be traveling cross-state by yourselves. _I don't even want to imagine what could've happened._ I'm not going to say 'next time,' because I swear to you _THERE WILL NEVER BE A NEXT TIME – DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I WILL END YOU MYSELF_," Sookie stopped briefly, taking several deep breaths and allowing her anger and fear to dissipate. "You are smart boys—I know this for a fucking fact—you use better judgment. You should have just told Aunt Linda what's going on. She's an adult. She could've helped you. You don't have to go all…" at a loss for words, Sookie paused, "all emo/loner. You have a fucking family." Sookie's words were breaking up here as her voice caught on her own heavy emotions. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Contrite, Hoyt and Hunter nodded silently. They looked relieved. Eric flashed them a reassuring smile. Jason seemed to be weighing things in his mind. Tara's eyes were a bit watery. Holy Fuck. Pam's eyes looked a little watery.

_Turn away, Northman. Pretend you didn't see it. If Pam thinks you witnessed her being human, it'll just make her want to put a stake in your heart._

Continuing to glance around the dinner table, Eric could see that, for Maxine, missing her AARP bus tour was clearly the best thing to have happened to the woman in years, as she was so enjoying her Stackhouse Staycation. Hmm. Amelia seemed quiet. Pensive. Guarded. Uh-oh.

"_Amelia_," Sookie started.

_Yep_, Eric thought.

"You want to explain to me exactly what happened with you today? Not the part about hitching a ride with Pam—although I'm willing to bet my life there's more to _that_ story. I want to know what happened before you left Poly Prep."

_Amelia's turn on the hot seat_, Eric thought. _Here we go._

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AN: Dedicated to Alexandra76! ****THANK YOU FOR READING! Loving the feedback and need ideas for the sequel. Every little bit helps. Thanks. :)**


	15. Amelia's Big Reveal

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**AN: There are many changes to original as the Cadell book is set in 1950s England and did not include potty mouth, white trash, Hollywood, VWs, cell phones, etc.**

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**Chapter Fifteen: Amelia's Big Reveal**

Amelia, wide-eyed, looked at her older sister who was obviously seething in a cold rage. Then the girl glanced over at her new support system, Pam. Pam nodded and smiled encouragingly at her.

"Go on, Amelia," Pam said.

Amelia nodded and, letting out a breath, started to tell her story. "Well, uh, I decided it would be best if I got expelled."

Sookie's eyes widened at her sister's comment. _Ten thousand dollars a year and she decides it would be for the best if she got herself expelled. One. Two. Three._

Nearly undone by her anger, Sookie's mask cracked a bit at that confession but she was quick to recover. "Okay, Amelia. Why?"

"Well, it wasn't the right place for me. It didn't feel right. The headmistress—"

"Octavia Fant."

"Yes, _Miss_ Octavia Fant. _MOF_." Ame spit the woman's name out with derision. "MOF's very set in her ways. I mean, it's like she thinks it's the 1950s or something. She encourages us to take typing and stenography. It's just weird. She'll just go off on tangents during lectures and tell us what we really need," Amelia shuddered, "is to find a 'good man' to marry."

Hoping to deflect some of the anger in the room, Tara decided to intervene. She knew, better than Sookie, the problems Amelia had with the head mistress since Amelia had confided in about them. The girl was hesitant to tell Sookie since she'd given Sookie such a hard time about going to the school the year before.

"Ame, when the decision for you to go to Poly Prep was made last year, there was a different headmistress, wasn't there?" Tara asked.

Amelia shot a grateful look at Tara as she nodded her head up and down furiously. "Yes, it was Miss Cleo—Cleo Babbitt. She was wonderful. She even encouraged my witchcraft. She was a wiccan. She said that many wise mystics argue over the ways of the universe and her brain wasn't as evolved as theirs and she couldn't and wouldn't pretend to know one way or the other. She just told me to not do anything 'mean.'"

"Oh, yeah," Sookie, remembering, was lost in her thoughts. "Ms. Cleo passed away, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Amelia nodded. "She was sick." Her voice broke a little as she said this. Pam laid a reassuring hand on the girl's arm.

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry," Sookie let out a breath. "So you were unhappy there for a while," Sookie carelessly pushed several strands of hair behind her ear. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Sook," Amelia met her sister's gaze head on, "I didn't want to be a problem-child. I know I kicked up a fuss to go to that school and," she rolled her head to the side, "I figured I'd just stick it out. Besides, I thought it was only for one year and then we'd all come home. Honestly, MOF was a pain, but she's really pretty predictable, and I figured I could handle her. She was kind of easy to manage," Ame shrugged. "Some people—once you know what makes them tick—it's pretty easy to get them to do what you want."

Pam nodded proudly at Amelia's observation while Sookie, frowning, glared at Pam, who merely grinned in response. Turning back to Amelia, Sookie continued her questioning.

"Okay, so you decided you'd get yourself expelled—so you could come home?"

"Yeah."

"Passive aggressive, much?" Barracuda Sookie had resurfaced. "Letting me know you didn't like the new headmistress would have been much more straightforward, and ultimately just as effective as purposefully acting out to get yourself expelled. As much as you don't like MOF as you call her, she is still the one deciding your grades and writing your evaluations. You're still only thirteen, even if you drive and have older _friends_" Sookie said with some measure of scorn as she gestured towards Pam.

"Watch it, Barbie," Pam warned.

Sookie just rolled her eyes in response. "As I was saying," Sookie continued. "You're thirteen. School will be a major part of your life for many years to come. As long as you act out, you effectively shut doors. You lose out on opportunities. Even progressive schools have entry requirements, minimum GPA standards, and behavioral standards. You're a bright girl—as I was reminded earlier today," her eyes went briefly to Pam. "Honey, don't fuck it up out of spite and misplaced anger. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Ame's eyes were a little watery. She jumped out of her seat and ran around the table to hug Sookie who was only too happy to wrap her arms around her younger sister.

_She really is a lot like me,_ Sookie thought.

"Okay, one last question. What the fuck did you actually do? MOF sounded so fucking horrified on the voicemail. She's gasping, and ranting, saying 'I'm not sure my heart will work well after the shock she gave me,'" Sookie drawled out a right-on impersonation of the head mistress, given Ame's peals of laughter. "So tell me: What did you do?"

"I pierced my nipple," Ame replied.

Pam sucked in her breath, then smirked.

Maxine, shocked, made a silent "O" with her mouth.

Jason grinned and shook his head.

Hoyt, Hunter, and Tara's eyes all widened.

Eric kept his face immobile.

Sookie's response was, perhaps, the least predictable. "What? Who the fuck cares? That's it?"

"Not exactly—." Amelia's voice trailed off as she made a face.

Sookie let out a sigh of frustration. "Ame. Come on, already. Just spill. Enough. What did you do?"

"I went to her office—she called me in there for cursing. When I read your email, I blew up with a string of WTFs—oh, I also broke my phone." Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a look at their sister's confession. "Anyway, so when I go in to 'apologize,'" finger quotes, "for my unladylike expression of anger, I unbuttoned my shirt and asked her if she liked my silver…" Amelia started to giggle. "I asked her if she liked my silver boobie barbell."

As Amelia laughed, everyone else was trying to get a handle on the full impact of Amelia's act. Sookie was the first to zero in on it.

"Oh, God, Ame," Sookie groaned, holding her head in her hands.

Jason drew in a sharp breath, while Eric cocked an eyebrow.

Tara's expression was a mixture of puzzlement and shock, while Maxine just looked riveted.

Even Pam's eyes widened slightly, indicating her surprise.

"Anyway," Amelia continued, "so she looks at me, all flustered, and starts waving her hands around, like Miss Pitty Pat from 'Gone With the Wind.' She's like, 'Oh, my heavens,' 'oh, dear,' 'oh, Lord.' Really, that woman needs some anti-anxiety meds," Amelia laughed. "She shouldn't be responsible for a watering a cactus, much less monitoring the social, educational, and psychological development of teen-age girls."

"No. No. No. Amelia! That's not it! She thinks you propositioned her! No wonder she's horrified! I'm horrified just thinking she thinks that!" Sookie sat there cringing and shaking her head back and forth.

As the full realization hit her, Amelia's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Catching flies. "Oh. My. God. It never occurred to me that she might think that," Amelia then did something she never does; she blushed. "I just thought she'd be pissed because I'd done it and it's so 'unladylike.' Oh, wow!" Amelia started to laugh again, "That's like a special fear she's got, too. A phobia. She's always rambling on about "Predatory Lesbians." She even made a flyer to distribute in the dorm of the 'warning signs.'"

Maxine's face returned to the "O."

Pam just smirked.

Eric's face remained immobile, while Jason snorted.

Tara, looking wide-eyed at the group before settling her gaze on Amelia, asking the million dollar question. "What the fuck is a "Predatory Lesbian"?

"Hmm," Pam whistled a few musical notes, "I wonder…"

Eric gave Pam a stern _Be Good_ look, while Sookie gave Pam and then Eric each a _WTF_ look. Eric tried to calm Sookie giving her an _Everything Will Be Okay_ look, while Pam just shrugged innocently and gave Sookie the _Who Me?_ look.

Frustrated by the nonsense wrought by her team of miming court jesters, Sookie pulled her eyes away from the Hollywood Contingent. Closing them for several seconds, she took a few deep breaths and then refocused her attention on her youngest sister.

"Now, tell me about your travel arrangements."

"Hmm, okay," Amelia glanced around. "Well, my friend Felicia—who I go home with most weekends—told her family driver to bring me home instead of going straight to the house. But Clancy drank at lunch—he probably had had a few before lunch, only we didn't know it—so we got pulled over by the troopers at the Natchitoches rest area. I met Pam there and she agreed to bring me home."

"That's it?"

"Uh, yeah."

"What about your friend? Felicia?"

"Well," Amelia shrugged. "I have no clue what happened because I haven't had a chance to call her. Her parents are away but Nazi MacDougal is responsible for her. I figured the police would have brought her home."

Sookie passed her cell phone to Amelia. "Call Felicia, Ame."

"Yes, ma'am." Amelia jumped up and ran out of the dining room.

"Sook?" Hunter was looking at his sister.

"Yeah, Hunt?"

"Can we be excused?"

"You done?"

"Yep."

"Then yep. Take your plates into the kitchen. Take Ame's too."

The adults, left in the dining room, gradually began to clear away the remaining plates. They talked mostly about the weather, which had returned to monsoon conditions after its brief lull. Eric offered up the fact that his filming was cancelled for the night due to the storm. Maxine confirmed she had located the 800 number she needed to find out her options for rescheduling her bus tour and planned to call them first thing in the morning. Pam wondered aloud why she wasn't aware of this organized 'movement' of "Predatory Lesbians." She instructed Eric to remind her to ask Amelia if she still had MOF's informational flyer. Sookie rolled her eyes.

As everyone bustled to clear the table and straighten up, the dining room was back to order within a short time. Jason excused himself to unpack, while Maxine and Pam went to go relax in the living room with a glass of wine. Tara went to go call JB. Remembering her Southern manners, Sookie followed Maxine and Pam out to the living room to thank them both for all the domestic and household chores they'd perforned since they'd gotten there.

Maxine looked slightly introspective when she answered. "Sookie, I can honestly say, I was looking forward to this vacation for nearly a year and, so far, I'm not disappointed. Sure, its gone differently from what I had planned, but sometimes," Maxine smiled, "things just happen as they're supposed to. And its not always the way you think."

"Oh, Maxine," Sookie smiled at the older woman, "you have such a wonderful attitude. Well, we're enjoying having you here." She reached out and patted the older woman's hand.

"Besides," Maxine joked, "since I retired I was getting too used to being alone and was becoming much too addicted to Wii. This has been real nice. Haven't been around a family in a while."

"Pam," Sookie turned to the other woman. "Thank you again for taking care of dinner. Chicken Ravenscroft was wonderful."

"It was no problem at all, Sookie. I enjoyed it. I don't get to cook much these days. It was my pleasure."

"Can I just ask you something?"

"You can ask. Can't promise I'll answer," Pam smirked.

"You knew Eric Northman before today, right?"

"Yes, Sookie. Unlike Amelia, I did know Eric before today."

"So, it's just a coincidence that you both wound up at the house, bringing the kids home?"

"Yeah," Pam shrugged. "You heard Re- eh, Maxine. Sometimes things just happen."

Sookie nodded silently, smiled once more at the two women and left to go see what still needed to be done in the kitchen. At the entrance of the kitchen she realized someone else had beaten her to it.

_Agh,_ she sighed, _of course. _

At the sound of her entrance, the person washing the dishes turned away from the sink and cracked a grin.

"Hi, Sookie," Eric Northman fixed her with a breathtaking smile.

_Damn, that man is good-looking. _

Amused, Sookie contemplated that she had the beginnings of a new reality series. A Celebrity Home Invasion where celebrities invade your home and take over all your household chores. Grinning, she just shook her head.

_ What the fuck? _Incredulous, Sookie decided to not fixate on it too much. _If I think too hard on it, it'll make me crazy. Besides, it's late and tomorrow's another day. I'll just think about it tomorrow. There's still stuff that needs to be taken care of tonight. _

"Hi, Eric," she said as she made her way to the sink. "Let me help you with those dishes."

So Sookie grabbed a towel off the hook and this is how she found herself in the kitchen doing the dinner dishes with _People's Sexiest Man Alive_.

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AN: I still love the fact I have an entire chapter devoted to Eric and Sookie doing the dishes. LMAO. Dedicated to TeaCupHuman whose avatar makes me speechless! Thank you to treewitch703 for the idea that I ought to have a nightcap while I edit. ****THANK YOU EVERYBODY FOR READING! Loving the feedback and need ideas for the sequel. Every little bit helps. Thanks. :)**


	16. Eric and Sookie Do the Dishes

**Chapter Sixteen: Eric & Sookie Do the Dishes **

Eric was halfway done washing the dishes when Sookie joined him. As she stood next to him, waiting for him to wash the remaining dishes, she silently contemplated all that had been thrust upon her in the past few hours. Her gaze unfocused, she stared dreamily ahead. Finally she just closed her eyes. Eric took the advantage of the opportunity to study her, memorizing her features.

Once the last plate had been rinsed, Eric figured it was time to shake Sookie from her reverie.

"Sookie?"

"Hmmm?" She opened her eyes. "Oh, sorry. Guess I drifted off. Still trying to process …all…this…" A rueful smile played on her lips.

"Yeah, I can imagine," he grinned back at her.

"Well, let's get these dishes squared away." Determined to force herself out of her ruminations, she grabbed a half-dry dish from the drying rack and began to wipe it down with the dishtowel. "They're kept in that upper cabinet over to your left. How about I dry and pass them on to you? You have a little bit of an advantage in the height department," she giggled.

"Sounds good," Eric smiled. And it did, too. He wondered how long he could drag out this chore. Internally he chided himself.

_Pam would castrate me if she knew I was practically giddy to be washing dishes with this woman. _

Working in silence, Eric and Sookie quickly and easily fell into an comfortable routine. Sookie would wipe the plates dry and then pass them to Eric, who would then stack them in the cabinet. Although Eric wanted to talk to her, he refrained. Conscious that saying the wrong thing would put him at a disadvantage, he remained quiet. Only the splattering of raindrops hitting the tin roof broke the silence.

Suddenly, Eric found he could no longer stay silent. He wanted to know what she was thinking. He decided to just tackle the obvious subject. It was possibly not the smartest conversation starter, but the alternatives seemed absurd. So, how do you like living in Dallas? I hear you write for a magazine?

_Uh-huh,_ he thought, _she would never buy it. _

"So, I guess the way things turned out today—" he paused, "the idea to sell the house –is not exactly going as you planned?" Cautiously, he glanced over at her.

Sookie's only response was an expressionless look. She heard Eric's words and could fully appreciate his delivery in the most neutral tone possible. But —and it was a big BUT—she knew—or thought she knew—that his words held an underlying accusation. An unspoken commentary of how she—the callous older sister—dominated the **roost of parentless orphans**, forcing them from their home and in so doing, breaking up the family.

_Okay, Sook,_ she chastised herself, _neurotic much? Calm down. Why assume he's thinking all that? _

Continuing to watch Sookie's face, Eric thought it looked as though she had something hot on the tip of her tongue, but was exerting effort to restrain herself. While her face gave little away, Eric could detect a slight pulsing at her temple. The two of them went back to working in silence until finally Sookie was the one to break it.

"Thank you, Eric, for bringing the boys home," she glanced at him. "It was really piss-poor judgment on their part to run away like that. It could've turned out very badly. But they were lucky to find you..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at him.

"You mustn't thank me," Eric responded with a grin. "I enjoyed it."

Sookie raised a questioning eyebrow in response. Honestly, she didn't know what to make of Eric Northman. On the one hand, she thought he was being honest. He said he enjoyed it. Therefore—on some level— he enjoyed it. If he was really enjoying himself, she didn't understand why. How enjoyable could it be to get pulled away from work, crash your $100,000 car, and wind up doing dishes in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere? Why would someone like him find THAT so enjoyable?

At the same time, she wondered if she was wrong and naïve to trust that he was being honest.

_He is a fucking actor, for crying out loud, _Sookie reminded herself. _His whole life revolves around convincing people to believe his lies. _

And what if it was an act? What was the motivation behind portraying himself as a 'humble and helpful regular joe?' Was he going to call the tabloids to give them a scoop on his act of heroics? Saving two helpless orphans from possible harm? Would there be coverage of them all in next week's _National Enquirer_?

_Perfect timing to promote his television show,_ she observed cynically.

Then again, if he was doing it to get free publicity for his television show, why? There were plenty of other things he could be doing that would be just as effective and more consistent with his Hollywood lifestyle.

Regardless of his motives, Sookie was just outright confused by his presence. Sookie had little time or patience for confusion in her life. Especially since she had enough fucking confusion without Eric Northman.

The more she thought about the possible reasons for him hanging around, the more pissed off she became.

Eric watched Sookie as she mulled things over in her mind, her inner struggle increasingly obvious from the animated changes in her demeanor. He could tell he was the source of her internal debate and he wondered on which side the coin would land.

Finally, Eric saw a flash of anger cross her eyes and a flush start to spread across her cheeks.

_Uh-oh_, Eric thought. _I know that look_.

"You can't have enjoyed it when my 13-year old sister crashed your friend's car into your own. It's a $100,000 Corvette and it's nothing but a _really expensive_ lawn ornament right now. How's that enjoyable? Explain the enjoyment to me. Please. 'Cos I'm dying to know."

Eric refused to be baited. He responded to her as if he were oblivious to her agitation.

"**Well, for one thing," he turned away to place a plate in the cabinet, "your brothers are a lot of fun. They're very bright," turning back he made eye contact with her, "and brave." **

Sookie knew Eric's assertion that Hoyt and Hunter were 'brave' had nothing to do with their adult-free solo trek home and everything to do with their decision to face off against her on the issue of selling the house.

And she resented the insinuation.

Sookie was tired of being labeled the "the bad guy," in this debate. It was unfair, unearned, and just plain inaccurate. It was bad enough to get the sense from her siblings, that they all considered her "the heavy," in all this, that they seemed to feel the need to band themselves against her, but there was no way she was going to accept a stranger—who knew nothing about her, her family, their money woes—to have opinions on this matter and to be so fucking obvious about his feelings, too!

"Brave? Brave? Fucking stupid if you ask me." Eric watched as she moved the dishtowel in an increasingly angry up-and-down motion. "They ran away. They could've gotten themselves hurt or killed. They made our aunt crazy with worry. They lied left and right. The way I see it, they made _fucktarded_ decisions all day. What's so 'brave' about that?"

Although he had attempted to answer her earlier question in a way that was honest, but still neutral, it seemed that she would twist whatever little he offered as she wanted. Considering just how much of his position he should reveal to Sookie, he finally resigned himself to telling her the truth.

_In for a penny, in for a pound_.

"Okay, why I regard your brothers as brave. You emailed them the news that their home was going to be sold. You," Eric pointedly looked at her, "as the adult, their guardian, presented them with a _fait accompli_, something that was represented as a done deal, something they couldn't change. It was a challenge," he observed coolly, "and for an 11 and a 12 year-old, I think they hit it out of the ballpark."

If Eric had still held onto hope that their conversation could be kept light and neutral, that last comment dashed all chance of that. Eyes blazing, Sookie whirled on him her cheeks flushed with anger.

"How fucking dare you?" She stared at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Listen here, Mr. Hollywood. This question of selling the house is not a new one. We've been over it many times before—"

"And I hope," Eric interrupted easily, "you'll go over it once more."

Sookie paused at that moment, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Eric watched her, enjoying the way her chest was rising and falling with each inhalation and exhalation. Unfortunately, for him, Eric's gaze was fixed squarely on her chest at the instant when Sookie's eyes opened. Realizing where he was looking, Sookie scowled and cleared her throat. Eric slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Yeah, you'd better be looking at my eyes," she glared at him.

"Always," he replied smoothly as he gave her a captivating smile.

Sookie chose to ignore his flirting and get back to the matter at hand.

"Now," she stopped, measuring her words. "I don't know if you're here to take notes for your next movie or what, but I'd really appreciate it **if you didn't look for drama in our little family issues. You've only gotten one side of the story and, let me tell you, there are many, many sides to this story**."

"Sometimes," Eric paused, glancing upward seemingly to ponder his words, before resuming their eye contact, "things are more clear to those who are outside of the situation. Those on the inside can get tunnel-vision and only see it one way."

As they had been talking, Sookie had continued to methodically wipe the plate she held—the same one that had been in her hands for nearly ten minutes. With Eric's last comment, a new flush crept along her face and her eyes snapped dangerously.

Looking at her, Eric could tell she wanted nothing more than to take that plate and smash it over his head.

Finally Sookie just stopped wiping the plate. Throwing Eric a look that could kill, she silently handed him the plate, and for the second time that evening stormed out of the kitchen.

Left alone with his thoughts and about a dozen dishes, Eric could not clear his mind of the conversation he'd just had, or the woman he'd just had it with. He could tell she wanted him out of the house, out their lives, and out of their business. He resolved then and there to see this through to the end, and stick around as long as he could.

_Ah, Sookie,_ Eric thought wryly, _maybe the more you see me, the more I'll grow on you. _

**

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**

**AN: Most of the dialogue is original but the bold tidbits here and there are close parallels to Elizabeth Cadell's original text. Please R/R. Ideas for the sequel? Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy it!**


	17. Time to Say Goodnight

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence. **

**Chapter Seventeen: Time to Say Goodnight**

After finishing up kitchen duty with _People's Sexiest—and Most Annoying—Man Alive, _Sookie went upstairs to wrestle the kids into bed. She feared everyone was much too wound up for their own good, but they were still kids and needed sleep. Another thing they seemed to need were boundaries. Although, considering the aggregate of their accomplishments of the day, she had to admit her younger siblings were quite gifted when it came to redrawing boundaries to suit their purposes.

Hoyt and Hunter, having reclaimed their rooms, were squirreled away in Hoyt's room. Sitting on the bed, surrounded by their various electronic games and devices, they were obviously replacing the batteries in everything.

"Hey, you two" Sookie greeted them. "What're you up to? You think it might be time to put that stuff away and go to bed?"

"Hey, Sook." They greeted her in unison.

"Jase gave us batteries when he came in to program his cell into Hoyt's phone." Hunter told her.

"Uh, yeah," Hoyt replied to the second part of the question. "I guess we're ready for bed."

"Good. You two had a busy day."

"Yeah, we did," Hunter started to laugh. "I can't believe that was earlier today when we left San Antonio."

"It's not funny, Hunter," Barracuda Sookie was making a bedtime appearance. "You scared the shit out of Aunt Linda and —honestly, she's pretty angry, too. Not just with you, but with me. Felipe is too. And traveling alone like you boys did," she looked at Hoyt, to emphasize the point that her lecture was directed at them both, "was just about the most asinine thing I'd ever heard. I was serious about what I said before. You could have been killed. Or worse. You understand?" Chastised, Hoyt and Hunter nodded, red flooding their cheeks. "Now," Sookie took a breath and sat on a chair facing the two boys, "tell me how it is you came to be delivered home by Eric Northman."

"Well, we got off the Greyhound bus in Shreveport—" This from Hoyt.

"—it was right by the 'Place Where People Go to Die'—" This from Hunter.

"Then we went outside and saw they were filming a TV show—"

"—there were signs not to park, and there were trailers and lights all up the street—"

"Hunter recognized Eric from the show. He'd watched it with Aunt Linda—"

"Aunt Linda says she'd 'do him' in a heartbeat—"

Shocked, Sookie gasped at Hunter's last comment and felt herself flush with multiple levels of anger and more than a little disgust at Aunt Linda and what she apparently felt comfortable talking about in front of an 11-year-old.

_What the hell is wrong with that woman?_

"Anyway," Hoyt continued, "it was too late for the Bon Temps bus and we tried to reach you but your phone kept going to voice mail—I figured maybe there wasn't service at the house, you know how lame ATT is. We were gonna get a cab, but Eric had some downtime and said he could bring us home."

"Now," Sookie really felt it important to drill this point home, "even though you recognized Eric from television, it didn't mean he was safe. You two really need to not make assumptions based on this, that you can pull stunts like this again."

"Aw, Sook. We're home now," Hunter replied. "We don't need to do anything like this again."

"Yeah, Sook," Hoyt put in his two cents. "Besides, it really was crowded when we first met him—all the television people were around. Then, when we got in the car with him, we gave him such," he looked at his brother and they both began to chuckle at the memory, "fucked up directions that if he'd done anything to us, he'd totally have been lost in the bayou."

"Yep, he would've been dead and gone for sure without us," Hunter deadpanned. Sookie let out a breath and shook her head. A Jason tactic: disorient the enemy. She smiled at her brothers.

Standing up, she hugged them tightly and told them to go to sleep in no later than fifteen minutes. Still smiling, she walked across to Amelia's room where she heard talking and laughing. Following her knock, Amelia opened the door in a flash. Her hair was blonde again? Sookie's mouth fell wide open. Catching flies. It wasn't Amelia who answered the door. It was Pam. Wearing Amelia's school uniform. Ame, of course, was wearing the red Prada dress. Sitting cross-legged on her bed. WTF?

"Uh, hi, Pam."

"Sookie," Pam quirked an eyebrow. She was waving a piece of paper.

"You mind leaving me and Ame for a minute?"

"No, not at all." In addition to the school uniform, Pam wore a very self-satisfied smile. "I think I'll go show the Northman my new outfit and let him know I got my membership information."

_Membership information? What?_

After the buxom schoolgirl exited the room, Sookie shut the door. Turning to face Amelia, Sookie tried to say something, but the words died on her lips. Finally she croaked out, "Membership information?"

Amelia pointed to her boob.

"Oh," Sookie nodded. "Octavia's flyer."

Amelia nodded.

"Okay," Sookie nodded and then pulled the chair out from Amelia's desk and sat. "Next, then. Why is Pam wearing your school uniform?"

"Well, it was part of our agreement for her driving me home. Besides," Amelia added reasonably, "since I'm done with Poly Prep, I don't need it anymore. So what does it matter?"

Sookie frowned. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about this. All things considered, if all Ame gave up to Pam was her schoolgirl uniform, then Sookie probably should've been thanking her lucky stars. She sighed. She wasn't sure of the exact moment it happened, but for someone who was usually in control of everything, the current situation was really pushing her out of her comfort zone.

_On many levels_, she thought ruefully.

"Ame, we glossed over these details before, but now I want you to tell me about your agreement with Pam and how it worked out that you were driving the Mercedes."

Amelia nodded and smiled, as she thought about how to respond.

"Oh, well," Ame started, "I met Pam at the Natchitoches rest area. She agreed to give me a ride if I told her stories during the drive and gave her the uniform." Ame thought it best to leave out the part about her splitting the driving as a condition for the ride. But she didn't mind sharing the part about witchcraft; it was, after all, her true calling and nothing to be ashamed of. "Also I told her I was a witch and offered her a spell."

_Hmmm_, Sookie wondered, _are we going to have to address the witchcraft thing at some point?_

"Anyway, Sook," Amelia added rationally, "I was stranded at the rest area with Felicia and that drunk Clancy, regardless. Even without the whole 'runaway' thing, it was kind of a fucked up situation. I would have had to gotten home anyway, whether it was to Bon Temps or to Poly Prep or to the Carmichaels."

Sookie peered at Amelia. Although her siblings had always been bright, Sookie was starting to get the sense that the kids were way too smart for their own good. Too reasonable. Too rational. Too articulate. It was crazy—and she knew it—but she blamed the Hollywood Contingent. Somehow Eric and Pam were responsible.

"Okay, Ame," finally it was time for the $100,000—make that $200,000- question. "How was it you were driving Pam's car?"

_Hmmm. What to say?_ Amelia thought.

"Well, Pam's not good with night driving," Amelia replied. "And she isn't used to driving around the country—we heard some wolves or maybe a coyote—and she freaked out a bit," she paused and giggled. "By 'freaking out,' I mean she blinked. I told her I knew how to drive—which I do! You know I do! I could drive to the house in the dark with one hand tied behind my back."

Amelia paused here and gave herself a mental pat on the back.

_Whew, _Ame thought. _Every word's true. Sook didn't say it had to be in chronological order, did she? And, technically Pam's not 'happy' with night driving but 'good' can mean 'happy' too, can't it? _

"What happened in the driveway, Ame?"

"Well," Ame responded, "I turned onto the drive a little fast but I would've recovered but then I hit a couple of deep ruts in the driveway and finally ran a groove along to the oak. The car was just about to stop when Eric and the boys pulled up."

Sookie let out a breath. That was exactly the story Pam told her. Dammit. Either everyone's telling the truth or the Hollywood Contingent is just that good at influencing the kids.

"Sookie—"

Sookie knew that tone. "Ame, its late. We're not discussing the house right now."

"I know, but I did it for the boys,' she said plaintively. "You said in your email you were treating me like an adult. I wanted to act like an adult. I did this for them. They need to come home. They don't tell you, but they tell me. They feel unwanted at Aunt Linda's. Felipe makes like he'd marry Aunt Linda, if it weren't for the boys. I think Aunt Linda's gonna start to resent them. And Felipe really holds the whole Las Vegas thing over their heads. He's kind of a sleaze."

"Ame, enough," Sookie glanced around the room, considering her words. "One thing about being an adult is you have to accept other people's opinions as just that: opinions. There are many sides to every story. Second, you can't just rush into making decisions. Third, you can't make decisions based on emotions."

"Well, here's the thing" Amelia leveled her gaze at her sister. "You say it's wrong to rush into decisions, but you're rushing a decision on the rest of us. We only found out this morning you're gonna sell the house. And you say there's other sides to the story, but you're not listening to ours."

Sookie sighed.

_Yes,_ she thought, _damn Eric and Pam. They're responsible for this. I know it._ She attempted to shake the suspicions from her head. _Way to go in slipping into complete irrational mode, Sook. They met the kids a few fucking hours ago, for fucks sake._ She turned her attention back to Amelia.

"Listen, Ame. You're done with Poly Prep. The boys are not going back to Aunt Linda's. Some of the things you all were unhappy about are gonna change. As to whether or not we keep the house. Last year, we had two problems: 1) none of the adults —and I am referring to the over-18 crowd—wanted to live here; and 2) we didn't have money to pay for it. Now, Jase wants to be here—and maybe Tara, too—but we still have the second problem to deal with."

"Can we —me, Hoyt, and Hunt—be in on the discussion?"

"Ame, given what the three of you managed to do in the past 24 hours, how the hell am I supposed to keep you out of the discussion? Even if I wanted to," Sookie laughed, "really how would I do it?"

Sookie rose from her seat and, spying her iPhone on her sister's desk, picked it up. She figured she may as well get the call to Aunt Linda out of the way. She turned her attention back to her sister.

"Get to bed. No more playing with Pam. Full day tomorrow. We're gonna have to talk about what we're doing. And we'll look into getting you a new phone, too."

"Does it have to be ATT?" Amelia pouted.

"Yes," Sookie laughed. "You know we're on their 'Fucked Up Family Plan.' I swear they should just market it that way. 'The Perfect Cell Phone Service for the Dysfunctional Family that _Really_ Shouldn't Be Talking That Much Anyway.'"

The two girls laughed. Sookie bent down and kissed the top of Amelia's head. Leaving her sister's room, Sookie then went off to her own room to ponder, for seemingly the millionth time that day, the question of what to do.

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading. ****Please review. Ideas for the sequel? Even non-sequitors help. I see plot bunnies _everywhere_.**


	18. WTF is an Urban Planner?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence. **

**

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Chapter Eighteen: WTF is an Urban Planner? **

After finishing with the dishes, Eric passed the living room on his way up to his room. Jason, sitting in the living room, glanced up as Eric walked past.

"Hey, Eric." Jason stood up and walked over to the bar. "C'mon and have a drink. I'm a beer man myself, but all we got right now is liquor. Those tenants must've been hardcore drinkers." He shook his head. "But I'm not complaining. Considering with your car and all, I'm guessing a drink might not be a bad idea?"

"Thanks. I could use a drink," Eric replied with a smile. "Although probably not for the reason you think."

Curious, Jason raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend's comment.

"Never mind," Eric said as he surveyed the liquors. "What's our poison?"

"Well, 'America's Most Wanted' seemed to like everything. We've got all kinds of options. I'm drinking brandy."

"Scotch," Eric decided after perusing the selection.

"Coming right up." Jason searched the bar and, finding the scotch, poured Eric a glass. "Listen, Eric," Jason started as he handed Eric his drink, "I am really sorry about what happened with your car." Thinking, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Like I said, I'm sure we can get everything squared away first thing in the morning. You can take my car to get to where you need to go tomorrow. Or I could bring you to get a rental. Of course," he continued as he raised his brandy to his lips, "you're welcome to stay."

_Stay?_

Eric zeroed in on the second part of Jason's comment but responded to the first. "Don't worry about the car." Eric shook his head and then took a swig. "It was actually quite **_fortuitous_**."

"Uh? What's that mean?" Unlike Sookie, who had a fetish for Word-of-the-Day calendars, Jason had never been much of a fan.

"It means," Eric grinned, "that I'm glad I'm here."

"**Oh, well, you won't be tomorrow. I'm gearing up for a full-scale attack against Sookie on the house thing. There's five of us," Jason grinned solemnly, "but now you've met Sook—you can see it's still not enough. You takin' sides?" **

Eric quirked his brow and considered. Interesting question.

"Yes." He finally replied.

"Woo-hoo, really? Hers or ours?"

"**Mine and mine alone**. **I just had a run-in with your sister," Eric snickered, "and its obvious she wants me out of here. But I'd like to take you up on your offer and stay on a bit." **He took another sip of his scotch.

_Hmm_, thought Jason. He hadn't been oblivious to Eric's clandestine attempts to look at Sookie throughout dinner. While his sister might not have appreciated the attention, he didn't think it was possible for Sookie to be an ungracious hostess.

_Hell, I've seen Sook give Debbie Pelt sweet tea when she'd just as soon have at her with the Benelli,_ Jason thought.

"Oh, no," Jason responded after a few moments. "You gotta have it wrong about Sookie. We were raised on Southern hospitality. You took a hit doing us a solid. You and Pam. The least we can do is play host for a bit. Sookie knows that. Hell, you and Pam made my homecoming dinner! Well, my second homecoming dinner – but you were at the first one too! Both of them were FUCKAWESOME!" Jason raised his glass in salute. "Yeah, I can't see Sookie looking to chase you away. You _must_ be reading it wrong."

"**I never read women wrong,"** Eric replied. "Now, Louisiana state highway signs are another story."

Eric took a moment to tell Jason about the disjointed drive bringing the boys home from Shreveport. Jason shook his head with a grin.

_Lil fuckers know how to give directions to the house,_ Jason thought.

The two men laughed recalling several events of the evening. Until Jason, uncharacteristically, got serious.

"Listen, notwithstanding what you may or may not be getting from Sookie, I really would appreciate it if you could hang on a bit. Maybe be there when Sook, Tar, and I have the talk about the house. **You give me confidence and the boys look up to you.** Pam's no use because," Jason laughed, "let's face it, I use half my energy willing Lil' Jase down when she's nearby. Maxine's a good sort, but she's real easily rocked. 'Oh this,' 'Oh that,' 'Oh no.' JB's brain is focused on one thing right now and that's Tara. You though, you could stand behind me and prop me up. Lord knows, you're big enough," he joked with a grin. "What do ya say?"

Eric was silent.

Jason was startled by the look on Eric's face. "What? You don't think we got a case?"

"No, it's not that," Eric hesitated, considering his words. "I do think you have a case. But your case is based on emotion," he sipped his drink. "Sookie's… is based on facts."

Jason sucked in a breath and chewed on Eric's words. "Yeah, you're right. I've been only feeling this. I need to be thinking about solutions. Sook actually said something about people comin' tomorrow to look at the house. Tomorrow! For fucks sake! Hold on. I need to get Tara down here."

Jason whipped out his cell phone and called his sister telling her it was time to talk strategy.

With Jason occupied, Eric took a moment to think about his own strategy. Bolstering Jason in private and showing his active support were two very different things. He'd already vocalized far more than was wise with Sookie. He knew supporting Jason would likely set him back in making headway with Sookie. But—if he was honest with himself, his conscience would not allow him to do anything else. Besides, at this point, his opinion on the matter was pretty damn evident to Sookie. Coming to a resolution, he spoke up.

"Listen, Jason. **If it comes down to a fight—and I'm hoping it doesn't—but if it does, I'll come in on your side. Don't worry. We'll figure out something." **

Jason let out a breath.

"Fuckawesome. Thanks, Eric," Jason fell silent as he sipped his drink. "You know who could handle Sook? Ame if she were older. Two peas, those two," he took a sip of his drink. "Well," he paused again, "aside from the witchcraft thing and…ah… the 'liking girls' thing." He raised his eyebrows and nodded a goofy grin as he sipped more of his brandy.

Just then Tara arrived at the living room door with Maxine Fortenberry following close behind.

"Hey, Jase, Eric," she nodded at Eric. "Since we're strategizing, I brought Maxine to join us. She and I were talking before and turns out she's got some experience that maybe can help us."

"Really?" Jason fixed his gaze on Maxine, slight puzzlement showing in his eyes.

"What's your experience, Maxine?" Eric cocked a brow and gestured to the bar as he wordlessly offered the two women a drink.

"Well, in answer to your first question," Maxine started, "I'm a retired urban planner. I used to work for New York State. In answer to your second question, I'd love a drink! Alcohol's the only thing that keeps us government workers going sometimes!" Maxine laughed.

Eric poured a glass of Reisling for Maxine and a glass of Merlot for Tara. The group then sat on the two couches.

Once she'd fortified herself with a sip of wine, "Oh, this is lovely_!" _Maxine began to talk.

"Okay, from what Tara told me, I gather that you want to keep the house—which is all paid for—but you need money to pay for property taxes, repairs, maintenance, as well as living expenses. Is this right?"

"Uh, yeah," Jason responded.

"Well, there's a few things you can look into, but it depends on the zoning and laws in Bon Temps."

"Now, Tara told me a couple of her ideas, and I think you could definitely look into those. One was to run a Bed and Breakfast. Now, that's good, as long as we've got a tourist economy, with plenty of disposable income. But if times are tight—like now—people don't travel so much. So, that's kind of iffy in terms of stable income. Also, you realize, you have to provide meals. And well, I guess with all of you here anyway, someone would have to cook, but you're going to have to make a show of it and be conscious of allergies and menus. No on-the-fly Mac-and-Cheese nights if you have paying guests. The kitchen has to be up to code. You'd have to make sure running a B&B is legal in your zoning district." Maxine took another sip of her wine.

Jason was starting to stare at Maxine with a look of wonder.

"Another idea Tara mentioned was to carve out one or two rental apartments. Since this place is so big and rambling, that seems like a real good idea. You'd need to make sure there was a separate entrance, full bath, and maybe even a full kitchen. To be legal, you'd have to clear it with your Town Clerk. Again, you'd have to make sure you understood the zoning." She paused to take another sip of wine. "Oh, if I'm still around, I'd be happy to have those conversations. Sometimes it helps to have someone translate 'urban planner jargon.' But I should tell you, you'll probably have to spend some money up front to make it happen."

Jason was staring at Maxine in utter amazement. _For fucks sake,_ he thought, _you never can judge a book by its cover._

Eric was grinning and shaking his head.

In response to his offer to refill her glass, Maxine nodded gratefully and handed her empty glass to Eric. "Yes, please, Eric. I'm so thirsty! Must be the country air."

Tara, smiling at Maxine, looked proud and impressed. _Ha ha,_ she thought triumphantly, _the boys brought home People's Sexiest Man Alive and mine's the one who's actually gonna help us._

But Maxine wasn't done. And this was going to be the tough part.

"Now, with both those options, you also got to deal with having strangers around in the house. And, well," Maxine paused here and flushed a little taking a sip from her newly replenished wineglass, "I really like you all. You're a nice family. I don't think it's a secret I've been having a ball since I've been here—it's nice to be doing stuff, after being retired for two years—but I have to tell you," she took in another sip of her wine, "you people curse more than anyone I've ever met! And I have Italian relatives in Brooklyn! If you're going to have paying guests staying here, you're going to have to make sure you don't offend anyone. Even with tenants, you need to be mindful of screaming obscenities." Maxine, deathly afraid at having offended Tara and Jason, polished off her wine before looking up to meet their eyes.

Eric glanced at Jason and Tara. The two Stackhouses looked shocked. Then guilty. Then both their faces took on that adorable pink glow Eric found so becoming on Sookie.

_Fuck_, he thought, _I've really got it bad if I'm getting worked up looking at the girl's brother. Northman, Focus. _

Gradually comprehending the full impact of Maxine's words, Eric laughed. "Stackhouses, you think you can rein it in for the sake of saving the farm?"

Jason glanced at Eric. His expression could only be described as pained.

"You laugh, but," Jason shook his head and sniggered, "I'm not sure we can. Even if Tar and I can make an effort, there's still the kids. They should be allowed to be themselves in their own home." He took a sip of his drink. "Tar, what ya think?"

"I'm with you, Jase," she replied. "It's kind of besides the point of us coming _home_, if we're walking on eggshells."

Jason nodded in agreement at his sister's assessment. They turned their attention back to Maxine, who cleared her throat and gratefully accepted Eric's offer of another refill.

"Okay," Maxine continued. "There's a few more ideas. First off, your property abuts the cemetery. Is it an active cemetery? Might they need more land for interments? Would you be willing to sell some land and have less of a buffer between the house and the cemetery? Some folks find that sort of thing creepy."

Jason whistled a haunting tune.

"I'm okay with it," he grinned. "The kids would be fine. Ame possibly thrilled. You, Tar?"

"It's a non-issue as far as I'm concerned," Tara replied. "We've got—what?—30 acres? The house and driveway and the front up to Hummingbird Lane is—what six acres?"

Jason nodded.

"Next," Maxine resumed. "Do you know what the zoning is for your property? What's the most number of houses you could have on your 30 acres? You could maybe sell some land to a developer to build more houses. But you have to make sure there's room for a road." Maxine started to laugh. "I don't think Eric's cemetery path would pass muster with the Town officials."

Eric rejoined them at that moment. "I think I heard my name," he joked.

"No offense, Eric." Maxine smiled at him.

"None taken, Maxine," Eric returned the older woman's smile.

"Last idea—and really, they're all variations on a theme—selling some land. It's just a matter of who you sell to." Maxine paused to sip her wine. "In some communities, there's a conservation group. They work with property owners to save open space. They could buy the land outright or just buy your right to build on the land. The group gives you money but you still own the land and can use it for lawn or field, but you can't build anything on it, except maybe put up a temporary structure. Like a tent for a party…." Maxine went on with her explanations.

Once Jason, Tara, and Eric had processed everything Maxine told them, the group started to plan for the next day. Unfortunately, it was Saturday, so they weren't sure which Bon Temps offices would be open.

Jason joked that since the Town Hall office hours were iffy even during the week, it didn't much matter that it was Saturday. Besides, even if they couldn't get a hold of any of the "slippery government people" –Jason paused here and nodded "no offense, Maxine,"—he was sure Uncle Mike or JB would have some of the answers to their questions, since they were real estate agents and it was their job to know "this boring-ass planning-zoning shit."

In the end it was decided that either Jason or Tara would call Holly Cleary, the Town Clerk, the next day, and ask if she had time to meet with them. It didn't hurt that Holly had a soft spot for Jason. They would also talk to Uncle Mike and JB. But, as Jason put it, "we don't know if Uncle Mike is on 'Team Sookie,' and JB might've gotten himself caught up with something that's gonna keep him too busy to help us." Jason gave Tara a pointed look as he made this observation, to which Tara responded by sticking out her tongue.

As he sat listening to the Stackhouses plot out their strategy, an idea began to form in Eric's mind. He didn't say anything to the Stackhouses or Maxine, but the fact of the matter was that filming the show would mean he would be living in the area nearly six months of the year. Six months of the year that, up until that moment, he had _not_ been looking forward to.

Eric detested sterile hotel environments, even the five star hotels. Part of his "pussyness" as Pam called it—his severe displeasure at Russell Edgington's decision to film the show exclusively in Louisiana— came out of his dissatisfaction with being rootless and unanchored. Like the Stackhouse siblings—five of them, at least—Eric appreciated the importance of home. He didn't feel comfortable in too many places. Yet…

Five or so hours at the Stackhouse Farm, and he felt completely at home. He had met the boys a little over six hours ago, Jason nearly eight hours ago. Sookie, five.

_Fuck_, he couldn't help but smile,_ even Pam's here. _

Just then there was a knock at the living room door and the one he had just been thinking of popped in wearing Amelia's schoolgirl outfit. The conversation winding down, Jason rushed over to offer Pam a drink, while Tara rolled her eyes at her brother, and butchered several axioms, muttering something about "old dogs and old fleas." Maxine laughed at Tara's comment and then laughed even more when she realized she'd "somehow" polished off the entire bottle of Reisling.

Eric smiled and shook himself. He still had trouble believing it was real.

_What the fuck? _

His idea? If the Stackhouses were determined to carve out an apartment in this charming, rambling house, who better than he to live in it?

Eric Northman hadn't gotten as far as he had by not knowing when to take advantage of a good opportunity. No. You don't achieve success—or longevity—in his line of work by not putting effort in to understanding your environment, shoring up your position, and taking advantage of every opportunity presented.

His investing in a place at the Stackhouse Farm served multiple purposes. It would give him—and Pam, he mentally added, glancing over at her amusedly watching Jason staring at her breasts—a place to stay while filming in Shreveport. It would help Jason, Tara, and the kids out financially. He—Eric—would be able to continue his involvement with the family—and the thought of maintaining contact with Hoyt and Hunter pleased him more than he even thought possible.

And, of course, it would ensure he still had a connection to Sookie.

As Eric polished off his drink, he couldn't help but wonder at the forces that brought him there that night. Between meeting Jason, Pam encountering Amelia, and him driving the boys home, fate seemed pretty insistent on guiding him to the Stackhouse Farm.

If fate was so determined, who was he to question it?

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**AN: Thank you for reading/rereading! ****If you'd like more chapters this w/e, let me know! How? By posting a review and asking, of course! God, I love Maxine. And Reisling. **


	19. Maybe it was Delaware

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Nineteen: Maybe It Was Delaware**

"Hey Hoyt! C'mon. We gotta get going! That dog's not gettin' any smarter!" Tara called her younger brother as she walked out onto the front porch. She and Hoyt were taking Jason's car to Terry Bellefleur's to pick up the dog.

_Hope Terry's going through a lucid phase, otherwise we're in for an interesting morning_.

Wandering down the porch steps, Tara, for the first time, noticed she wasn't alone. Eric Northman was lounging in the shade on a foldout chair.

"Hey, mornin' Eric."

"Good morning, Tara. You going to pick up Long Shadow?" Eric smiled breezily. The boys had told him about the dog. He knew they—especially Hoyt—were anxious to bring him home.

"Yep," she nodded, grinning. "I think it was only the storm that kept Hoyt from insisting we go last night. He really loves that dog," she shook her head. "Truth is, dog's a bit slow, but he has his special ways."

"Hey, Tar! Hey Eric!" Hunter came bounding down the steps.

"Mornin' Tar. Mornin' Eric." Followed by Hoyt.

Eric greeted the two boys with a nod. "Hey, you two figure out what games you're going to play with Long Shadow when you get him home?"

"Oh, yeah!" Hunter began. "That's an easy one. We got a _new one_ all figured out."

Hoyt started to laugh. "Yeah, we came up with it last night."

The two boys looked at each other and continued to chortle.

"What's the game?" Tara asked as she started to laugh with them. "C'mon, you gotta tell me now! What're you two planning on playing?"

Eric, smiling, waited for the boys to fill them in on the joke.

"We're gonna reenact the "America's Most Wanted" FBI bust," Hoyt explained, "and Long Shadow's gonna be our bomb-sniffing dog! We figure we can use the house—since that's where they really got busted— "

Tara, impressed, nodded at the boys and then glanced over at Eric, who responded with a wink.

"Yeah, Tar," Hunt added. "Felipe clipped the newspaper articles for us! And we even got a pair of handcuffs!"

Tara's eyes widened at Hunter's comment. Cutting her eyes to Eric, she saw that he looked puzzled as well.

_What the fuck? Handcuffs?_

"Where'd you get handcuffs, Hunt?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"That Felipe. He said Aunt Linda's too wily and he needed to get the extra strong ones, so he gave us the old pair."

Tara's eyes widened further and she accidentally bit down on her tongue. _What the fuck is up with Aunt Linda? Jesus. This Felipe de Castro sounds like a real winner_. She made a mental note to talk to Sookie about making sure the boys are never left alone with him again. _Ick, gross. _"Uh, well, maybe," what the hell to say, "you should let me or Jase or Sook check them out first? Maybe we should make a copy of the key, in case it gets lost." _Good thinking Tara!_

Eric threw Tara an approving look, nodding his head with a tight smile.

"Yeah, Tara," he agreed. "Definitely not good to lose the key. You boys should make sure you have several copies."

"Oh, okay," Hoyt agreed. Hunter shrugged. Tara silently thanked God that the boys were so easily willing to give up the handcuffs—although, Fucking A, He knew she didn't want to be the one to take the damn nasty things from them. Fuck. Just then Pam emerged from the house.

"Good morning, Stackhouses. Eric." Pam nodded.

"Mornin' Pam!" The two boys enthusiastically greeted her in unison and Eric, amused, saw that she was pleased by the warm welcome.

"Good morning, Pam," Tara nodded. She turned to her brothers. "Okay, Hoyt, time to go." Then she remembered something. "Oh, Pam, I'm heading out with Hoyt to get the dog. JB called me before to let me know his folks were gonna stop by. Could you please let Sookie know?"

"Yes," Pam nodded. "Of course." _Oh, I'll let her know, all right. _

"Good, good. Let's hit it, Hoyt." With final waves 'goodbye', Tara and Hoyt got into Jason's car and left.

Hunter, meanwhile, after watching the car turn out of the driveway, announced he was going inside to "take a piss" and headed towards the house.

Pam, her gaze following the boy as he walked away, nodded her head approvingly. Finally she turned her attention to Eric. Watching Pam, Eric knew he was in for it. She had the look on her face she got when she was about to tease him. Bracing himself, he quirked an eyebrow questioningly in her direction. _Let me have it,_ he thought.

"Well, guess what?" Pam prompted.

_Hmmm, _he thought. I see she wants to make it a game. _Okay, I'll bite. _"What?"

"Apparently you're getting a little long in the tooth for the show."

"Very funny, Pam," he chuckled. "I play a 1,000 year old vampire." He actually did think Pam's pun was funny. Pam could be pretty damn amusing sometimes. Especially with puns.

"Yes, well. Remember how they were debating whether or not to cast a 'Little Ricky'?"

Eric, positive he knew what she was going to say, groaned.

"Well, congratulations! You're going to be a maker!" Pam announced this like she was telling him he was going to be a father. That Pam.

"Fuck!" Eric replied, exasperated. "I hate last minute script changes. Who'd they get? Where's he from?" _Don't say Sweden_.

"Never heard of him before. Name's Godric Something. Saw a headshot. High on the emo scale. Might be Dutch. Or Danish? I think it started with a 'D' Maybe it was Delaware. Who cares?" Pam shrugged.

Eric scowled at Pam. Sometimes he wondered why he kept her on as his manager. While loyal, she could be extremely lazy.

"Well, how old is he?"

"Seventeen," Pam smirked. "Don't worry, Eric. I'm sure the moms will still chase you around IKEA."

Eric threw Pam another look. The IKEA joke was getting old. She should stick to puns.

"Anyway, they're holding production while they tweak the script."

At this Eric raised his brow.

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that. A little more time to enjoy Podunk and the Barracuda. Hmmm, sounds like a vehicle for Hasselhoff...Reminds me, I should give him a call one of these days and make sure he's current on his White Castle payments." With that, Pam turned on her heel and started to walk back toward the house. Eric stopped her.

"Pam?" She turned back to face him, expectantly. Her lips said nothing, but her face said 'what the **_FUCK_** do you want from me **_NOW_**?'

"What time is breakfast?" Eric gave her the shit-eating grin that he brought out just for her.

"Nine-thirty sharp, Northman. No fucking around."

Pam made her way back to the house.

* * *

Earlier that morning, after a fitful night of tossing and turning, Sookie arose about as far from well-rested as one possibly could. It didn't help that the birds of Bon Temps seemed intent on waking before dawn, but she couldn't fault them for sticking to their schedule.

Usually a sound sleeper, the events of the past day sank into her subconscious, manifesting themselves in her dreams. In one dream, there was a huge party at the house. Everyone was laughing and having fun. A tent was canopied over the back. A sound system was in place. There was a band. _Everyone_ in Bon Temps was there. Except—thank God—Debbie and Sandra Pelt, Arlene Fowler, the Newlins, and a few others that had long ago been stricken from her short list, her long list, and even her 'condolence' list. The Hollywood Contingent was there. Of course. Even Maxine. Even Aunt Linda and Felipe de Castro.

Ugh. Now she remembered. She'd finally gotten around to calling Aunt Linda last night right before bed. She'd only wanted to tell her that the boys were fine, she understood, she was real sorry, end of story. But Linda had kept talking and talking. They got into the whole story and she made the mistake of mentioning Eric Northman drove the boys home and the woman's last words to her were something to the effect of "Eric Northman is staying at the house? Maybe I'll come by." Sookie really, really hoped Aunt Linda would not show up on the doorstep. For one thing, they had a full house. For another, they had enough shit to deal with without Aunt Linda and Felipe added to the mix. Fuck.

Back to her stupid dream. As she wandered through the dream party, she realized that nobody could see her. She wasn't really there. Try as she did to talk to Jason, Tara, the kids, no one knew she was there. Not big into pop psychology, Sookie did take Psych 111 in college. It didn't take a genius to figure out what her fears were.

Deciding that she'd make the most of being home, Sookie eventually forced herself out of bed to go for a run. As she left the house, she took note of Jason's car still parked, as well as the two monstrosities hugging the oak tree. She heard rustling in the house, but no one appeared to be up yet.

_Just as well, _she thought. _I am so not ready to deal with anyone. _

Returning to the house more than an hour later, Sookie felt slightly better. Sweaty and riding high on endorphins, she felt energized. But, if she had hoped that things would make more sense upon her return to the house, she was disabused of that notion fairly quickly.

Running up the driveway in her sweats and t-shirt, she bent to stretch about ten yards from the front of the house. Peering over the bushes that lined the drive, she drew in a breath. Eric Northman was leaning over the front of his Corvette. Not wearing a shirt. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. She felt like she was watching porn. She imagined herself seconds away from a full out drool.

_Stop this! _she scolded herself. _What's wrong with you? He already thinks he's God's gift to women. People's Sexiest Man Alive! For fucks sake! And he's a judgmental, pain-in-the-ass busybody. Besides that he thinks you're a bitch. _

Thus fortified, she then focused on what he was doing. She realized for the first time that Jason was there too and the two of them were attempting to pry the Corvette off the Mercedes. She squinted her eyes.

_Hmmm_, she thought, _is that Hunter in the driver's seat_? _Jesus H. Christ_, _is there no end in sight? _

She trotted up to them, and glanced in the car to confirm her suspicions. Eric and Jason halted their activity to greet her.

"Hey y'all."

"Mornin' Sook."

"Good morning, Sookie."

"Sook, they got me in charge of the braking the car!"

"Yeah, Hunt, I see that," Sookie glanced at Eric who winked at her. "I'm wondering what's goin' on in Hollywood these days that they seem to think its okay for kids to be driving cars?" Her sweet southern drawl barely veiled the venom in her words.

Jason looked surprised by Sookie's surliness towards Eric, while Eric remained unruffled. He did, however, throw a quirked eyebrow in Jason's direction, as if to say, _See? _

"Sook, the car's off and in neutral," Jason tried to deflect some of her misplaced anger. "We're pushing it on level ground about two inches. All Hunt's gotta do is press the brake, and then move the gearshift."

Sookie looked unconvinced. She glanced back and forth between them. "What're you boys up to, anyway?"

Jason thought it safest that he answer. "We got the Chevy dealer outside of Monroe agreeing to pick up the 'Vette, but he told us we had to separate it from the Mercedes ourselves. We're just pushing them apart but the grills got a little mangled..." Jason left off his explanation as his sister no longer seemed to be listening.

"Uh-huh," Sookie nodded and focused her gaze on Eric. "Eric, I imagine you must be anxious to get back to civilization. Bon Temps must be deadly dull compared to Hollywood."

Jason drew in a breath. _Fuck,_ he thought, _Eric had Sook pegged after all. The look she's giving him_—_either she wants him under the 'Vette or on top of the 'Vette. Or maybe both._ He stifled a laugh.

Returning Sookie's stare, Eric refused to be baited. Leaning back against the hood of his car, he crossed his arms, and smiled at her.

"I actually grew up in an area not very different from this. In Sweden. Los Angeles is where I spend time," he paused, "for work. And," Eric's penetrating icy blue eyes met Sookie's, "I'll be spending a good portion of my time here, in Northern Louisiana, while the show is being filmed."

"Woohoo, that's fucktacular, Eric," Jason hooted.

Jason's enthusiasm caught on with Hunter, who put his hand out the window to give Eric a high five, "Cool! Way cool, Eric!" Eric turned to high five the eleven-year-old.

Following his revelation, Eric turned his attention back to Sookie. Finding her eyes still boring into his, he smirked.

_Jesus H. Another epic staredown_, thought Jason. He shook his head, silently laughing.

Finally Hunter broke the silence. "Hey, we gonna do this? I ain't got all fucking day you know. I gotta go check the tree house."

Sookie gave herself a mental shaking and tore her gaze away from Eric. She peered into the car to talk to her youngest brother. "Hunt, did you and Hoyt have breakfast?"

"I didn't but Hoyt did. Tara took him in Jase's car to pick up Long Shadow."

Sookie looked back over her shoulder and realized for the first time that Jason's car was gone.

"Jase, don't you need your car to get Eric and Pam to their hotel in Shreveport? Or are the dealers' going to drop them off when they pick up the cars?" Sookie was looking squarely at her brother. She couldn't risk any more time lost in Eric's eyes.

"Shit, Sook, its not even nine o'clock! We haven't even had breakfast yet! Tar and Hoyt aren't gonna be gone all day. If Eric and Pam need to get going sooner, well, maybe I can take them in the Cabrio. Or you can."

Eric almost bit his tongue at Jason's suggestion. Somehow, he didn't think Sookie would be jumping at the opportunity to spend time alone with him and Pam. On the other hand, she desperately wanted them gone. No better way to assure herself that they're gone than to be the one that drops them off somewhere. They'd be lucky if she dropped them in Shreveport, and not at the bottom of a lake. Idly he wondered if she knew how to handle a shotgun.

_Who am I kidding? She probably got one for her tenth birthday,_ he shook his head, smiling to himself.

Sookie harrumphed and stalked off. Jason shook his head, pondering just what the fuck was up with her, while Hunter muttered something about her getting "crazy in her old age." Eric followed her with his eyes until the door slammed behind her.

Sookie, meanwhile, went into the kitchen to see about breakfast and was surprisingly unsurprised to find that Maxine and Pam already had it covered.

"Good morning, Sookie." _Looking hot and bothered already,_ thought Pam.

"Morning, Sookie." Maxine said warmly.

"Good morning ladies. Pam, you on breakfast detail, too?" Sookie asked, with the best neutral tone she could've hoped for.

"I told you I enjoyed cooking," Pam was removing a tray of biscuits from the oven, "I don't have much of an opportunity to cook. I'm often staying in hotels when I travel for work, which is most of the time. The places with kitchens are usually efficiencies," Pam wrinkled her nose, "and I find their accommodations not to my taste."

"Oh, oh," Maxine took that in. "Well, why don't you rent an apartment when you know you'll be in the same place for a while?"

"That is an interesting idea, Maxine," Pam stared in the air with a contemplative gaze, "I will take that suggestion under advisement. I have enough…interests…in Louisiana currently that that might make sense." Pam winked at Maxine.

Maxine still didn't know exactly what to make of Pam, but she had spent enough time with the woman in the past day to get that some of what she said was for effect more than anything else. Then again, some of it was because she might've been a little crazy. Maxine smiled at Pam.

Still trying to assess what was going on, Sookie was off in her own little world. She hardly registered the nuances of Pam and Maxine's conversation. She realized one of their troop remained unaccounted for.

"Hey, either you see Ame this morning?"

"Amelia went looking for some of her books in the study," Pam replied. "When she couldn't find what she was looking for, she said she was going to search in the attic. I told her she was to come down for breakfast at nine-thirty."

"Oh, okay," Sookie shook herself again. "What're you making for breakfast anyway?"

"We have biscuits and gravy. Omelets and sausages. Coffee should be ready in a matter of minutes. Also, JB called and apparently his parents are going to stop by at some point today."

Sookie just stared at Pam, her eyes widened in amazement.

_For fucks sake, _she thought, _why exactly am I here? Does JB have Pam on speed dial? Has everyone lost their fucking minds? WHAT THE FUCK? _

Sookie's thoughts clearly evident on her face, Pam swallowed a grin. Of course, JB had called Tara and it was Tara who relayed the message to Pam about JB's parents stopping by. But Sookie didn't need to know this. Pam continued to watch Sookie. As amusing as Barracuda Sookie was to observe, Pam thought she liked Shaken Sookie nearly as much.

_Hm, I think it'll do the minx some good to be out of control for a bit_ thought Pam. _Yes. It would definitely be more fun for Pam. Possibly for Eric, too. If only he would stop being such a pussy. _

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**AN: Thank you for reading/rereading! ****Reviewing. Gawd. I love Pam. If she came after me with her predatory Lesbian ways, I think I'd go for it. I love Hunter too. But not in the same way. Pam's still in the lead on the funniest character poll, with Hunter second. The kid's a fucking riot.**

**BTW: I am _revising_ this fic. Chapter 1 was _new_. Several chapters were _deleted_. I am not just reposting it. [Why would I do that? Makes no sense.] Since I'm writing a sequel, I needed to eliminate the continuity errors. Think if CH had taken time to go back and fix Catfish Hennessey/Hunter and Bill's five/three kids and all her other mistakes. Yeah, its like that. **


	20. The Talk

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Twenty: The Talk**

The family settled down to breakfast. The family. Along with Pam Ravenscroft and Maxine Fortenberry and Eric Northman. As she took her seat, it wasn't lost on Sookie that Pam and Maxine had prepared breakfast, while Pam and Eric had made dinner the night before. Sookie vaguely wondered if she'd ever prepare another meal in the house.

Amelia finally surfaced. Some books had gone missing from the study —she figured the tenants needed the space to store their "drug paraphernalia." Then Hunter wanted to know what "drug paraphernalia" was. Sookie threw Amelia an angry look, while Jason calmly stepped in, responding to Hunter's query with a succinct "bad stuff, Hunt, don't worry about it." Jason further deflected the topic by asking Hunter if he had had an opportunity to tell Eric, Pam and Maxine about his tree house?

By the time breakfast was over, the three family newcomers had been fully informed on the tree house. Sookie couldn't help but be amused by the fact that all three of them (Ha! Eric! Maxine! Pam!) expressed interest in checking it out. Finding that bizarre, Sookie found herself idly wondering if the house were somehow a beacon for perpetually young-at-heart, psychologically-stunted Peter Pan wannabes. Shaking her head at her own whimsical thoughts, she laughed silently to herself.

After breakfast, Amelia and Pam set about cleaning up the kitchen, while Hunter took Eric to show him the tree house. Sookie lent Maxine her cell phone to call the 800 number and find out about her AARP tour.

With everyone thus occupied, that left just Sookie and Jason. Sookie figured now was as good a time as ever. She had no illusions that one conversation would be all it took to get the complicated matters they needed to settle squared away, but the discussion had to start somewhere.

"Jase, let's talk about this," she stood up from the table.

"Sure," Jason let out a breath. "Let's go into the living room." As he stood, Sookie saw her brother exchange a glance with Maxine, first, and then one with Pam, who had come in to the dining room to collect some dishes. Observing the looks, Sookie's reaction was immediate: what the fuck?

"Sook, hang on a few. I just need to make a quick phone call." Jason disappeared while Sookie brought her coffee into the living room.

A little while later, Jason and Sookie met up in the living room. Door shut, Sookie sat on a chair in front of the game table while Jason positioned himself on one of the couches.

"Jason," Sookie looked up, meeting her brother's eyes, "I don't want you to think that this has anything to do with me not trusting you, because it doesn't. I know you're not the same tomcat hell-bent on trouble you were when you left," she paused. "It's just, well, you need money to make this place work. A lot of money—"

"Yeah, I gather that —"

"No, let me finish," she glanced at her hands. "I don't know that you do. I was the one in charge of the bills. This place takes a ton of money to keep cool, keep warm, keep lit, just to keep. The taxes are not cheap. Mama's medical bills ate up a lot of the money—most of the money, really—from daddy and from what little Gran was able to leave us that wasn't part of the Brigant trust.

"It was stressful, Jase. It was really coming to the point where I was startin' to wonder how we would make the next round of bills. Really, I knew we were good for a bit longer, but it wouldn't have been fair to the kids to settle them into another school year, only for them to not be able to stay. That's why we moved when we did, over the summer.

"That concerned me then," she met his eyes, "and frankly it still concerns me now. Those kids have had enough upsets to last a lifetime. It's not fair to dangle something before them, let them taste it and smell it and think it's real, only to snatch it away again." She stopped then, her gaze never wavering from her brother's.

Jason let out a breath. Looking away from his sister he glanced out the window, where he could see the figures of Hunter and Eric in the distance carrying the ladder to the oak tree.

"Sook," he looked at her. "Listen, I know it was hard on you. I look back and I could kick myself. Before I left, I was a selfish asshole. I didn't think about anyone other than myself. You took care of it all, everything, first with daddy gone and then when mama was sick. I don't know how much I could've helped, but I wish I'd tried. I wish I'd stepped in and lightened your load. I'm sorry for that."

"Well," Sookie's face was flushed. "I appreciate that, Jase, but that's not what I'm looking to talk about right now."

"No, Sook, I know that," he put his hand to head. "It's just something I wanted to get out, and, well, it seemed like as good a time as any."

"Well, okay, but —"

"Hold on, Sook," Jason interrupted. "Let me just say one more thing: we're workin' on a plan to make this all work."

_What? What plan? __Who's the 'we'? _ After a moment in shock, Sookie found her voice. "What? Who? Who's making a plan?"

Jason proceeded to tell Sookie about how Maxine, the retired urban planner, had a few suggestions as to how they might be able to get money to maintain the house. Sookie's face remained a mask. She really didn't see this coming.

_Ha, like I saw any of it coming. _

"Anyway, so this morning Tara went into town to talk to Holly Cleary and find out about some of this stuff. And Holly met her at the office and she picked up some information, got some names, and we're gonna work on that end.

"I'm gonna look for a job. I'll talk to Catfish Hennessey and see if I can pick up some hours on the road crew until something better comes along. Tara's staying. I imagine she'll be setting up housekeeping with JB before too long, but we've got her for the time being. The kids can go to school in town. I used Pam's laptop to shoot off emails to the principals of the middle school and the junior high to set up meetings to get them settled. It's spring break, this week, but the kids will be in school, hopefully, by next week. I emailed Octavia Fant and Aunt Linda about shipping the kids' stuff home.

"I've got some money to keep us going for a while. If we sell some land, we might be able to do well. Apparently the land values have gone up here, since New Orleans got hit so bad. They changed the zoning too, so maybe we can get more.

"If you're worried about us," he looked at her. "You don't have to be. We'll be okay. We can take care of ourselves and each other. You can go back to Dallas, marry Bill, and have your life. Heck, I can even buy you out of your share of the house. Or," Jason grinned, "even better, maybe I can talk JB into moving in here with Tara and _he_ can buy you out of your share of the house."

Jason rose from his perch on the couch and walked over to Sookie and took her hands in his.

"So? What do you think?"

What did she think? What did she think? Sookie couldn't help but think that she was quickly being erased from her family. She didn't like it. But she knew it wasn't fair to rain on her brother's parade.

"I think," she stumbled as she battled her emotions, "it sounds good, Jase. But," she was wondering how realistic all these options were, "maybe we should talk to Uncle Mike about these ideas? I mean he's a realtor. He's got to know about this stuff too. At least how much we might get for the land if we sell, right?"

"Yeah, sure, Sook. Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane are coming by today. Aunt Jane's all over seeing Eric."

"Oh," reminded of the wayward strays, she had to ask, "that reminds me. When are all the strays leaving?"

"Well, Maxine is making her calls this morning. Not sure what Pam and Eric's schedules are, but heck Pam's been doing all the cooking and Maxine's all over the housework. If they leave, we'll just have to do it ourselves. I'm doin' what I can with the sheets," he laughed, "but we don't need to push it. I say we leave well enough alone."

Sookie's face remained impassive.

"Well, Eric Northman's not doing anything. And he has a hotel room in Shreveport just waitin' for him. I feel like he's just hangin' around to watch us and see what we do. We might wind up in his next film. He should go."

Jason sucked in a breath. _Damn, that rod's lodged pretty fucking tight. What the hell? _

"Listen, Sook. Pam and Eric both did us solids—bringing the kids home safely—and got their cars smashed up in the process. I feel like we owe them more than a 'hey, thanks," and frankly they seem to be enjoying themselves, so why not just let it go for a bit? Everyone's gotta get back to their real lives eventually. And, shoot, it's been fun having a full house. They're good people. You don't know how I've missed times like these."

Suddenly Sookie felt ashamed of herself. Here her brother was not even 48 hours out of the Navy and he's just looking to enjoy peace—REAL PEACE—and she's gotta go and be a bitch.

"Oh, Jase." Her tongue, heavy, caused her to stumble. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't think how this would be for you. I've been kind of in a daze, myself. It's weird. You seem to have everything under control."

"As it should be," Jason nodded, in a mock-arrogant way. "It's my turn bein' the head of the family. You can take yourself home to Dallas, get yourself hitched, and have some nieces and nephews for me to spoil. And you don't have to worry about us. We clear?"

Rarely does it happen, but it happened. Sookie Stackhouse was speechless. She nodded.

"Good, good. So tell me what Bill is like? I know you emailed you met him what –when—last fall, right? How ya think he'll take to the family?"

Sookie could not imagine a subject she felt less like talking about right at that moment.

"Uh, Bill is really smart, intelligent. He's from Connecticut. He moved to California for school and wound up moving to Dallas after school. He's an economist. So he's kind of a political news junkie, always reading. Or writing for that matter."

"Uh-huh. He has family?"

"His mother Lorena lives in Connecticut. He's got a younger sister Jessica who lives in Chicago."

"We gonna get to see you around here? You know Dallas isn't that far?—"

"Yeah, of course, Jase," she grinned. "Be careful what you wish for, baby brother. I may just keep turning up like a bad penny every weekend." Sookie tapped him on the arm.

"Sook," the emotion caught on his throat, "I can honestly say, I wouldn't mind that at all. Hell, if you want to come back, come back. Heck, maybe you should invite Bill to come up and meet everybody. Weather's nice, not too hot yet. Seems we got a cook and a housekeeper," he laughed, "might as well have more guests to take advantage."

Sookie laughed and shook her head, "Naw, that's crazy. Bill's busy with his work. He doesn't do the 'pick up and leave' thing very easily." Suddenly Sookie just stared, her mouth wide open.

"Sook, you're –"

"I know, I know. Catching flies."

"What's up?"

"Well," she started to laugh, "I just realized I forgot to call Bill and update him on all," she gestured in sweeping motions, "this. I got a mental image of what that would look like," she laughed some more. "Seriously, Jase, how the heck does one explain this?"

Jason, seeing the joke, joined in her laughter. "With a bottle of tequila in your hand!" Sookie, standing, bent down to hug and kiss her brother. "I'm really proud of you little brother."

"I'm proud of you too, Sis."

Sookie went off to see about collecting her cell phone from Maxine and calling Bill. Jason, seeing some action out the window, started to go out to the front where Eric and Hunter were now coming down from the tree house in a big hurry. Hunter looked agitated and Eric was trying to talk him down. Jason grinned and absently thought he'd recommend to Eric that he start doing some gardening or help more with the cooking, to protect himself from rising Sookie's ire and her "he's not doing anything/he should go" attitude.

As far as Jason was concerned, he was home, his family was around, his friends were around, and he was having a blast. Let the good times roll. As for when the 'strays' went, Maxine was pretty much displaced, having missed her bus tour. As long as she was still around, Jason figured Pam and Eric could stick around too.

_Sookie would just have to get over herself._

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AN: Thank you for reading/rereading and r****eviewing! I am _revising_ this fic. I took it down for a reason. I am editing this in the evenings after work. **


	21. Bill on the Phone, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Twenty-One: Bill on the Phone, Part 1**

Sookie was lying on her bed. She had gotten through to Bill but he was in the midst of a work-related call and promptly asked if he could put her on hold. Rather than be miffed, Sookie was enjoying the tranquility of the moment. She was also still trying to figure out how to explain the situation to Bill. He didn't exactly take surprises well. Not that he got angry—really. Sookie rarely saw Bill lose his temper. He didn't run hot and cold, more like variations of cool and warm and tepid. She waited.

Sookie had met Bill Compton nearly ten months earlier, soon after her move to Dallas. She had just started her job at the magazine and she needed to interview an economist to get their opinion on the current economic climate in Dallas. Hurricane Katrina had wrought many changes, not only in Louisiana but in the entire Gulf Coast. Texas, especially the Dallas area, had experienced an influx of people, a growth in business, and a spike in development. Five years after the devastating hurricane, there was still a lot of debate as to identifying the long-term effects.

One of her colleagues had given her Bill as a contact and she made arrangements to meet him at this normally sedate café near her office that for some unknown reason was playing what could only be described as naughty honky-tonk that evening. As she approached Bill, dodging tightly clad honkytonks and "rednecks" suggestively swaying to the music, she was internally dying of laughter but she held it in when she saw how uncomfortable Bill looked sitting there: this uptight economist wearing chinos and a polo shirt surrounded by cowboys and cowgirls. She later found out that the café was having a live performer for the first time later that night and it was playing music to get the audience in the mood. She laughed at the memory.

Bill didn't really fit in very well in Texas. He had taken a job with a Dallas consulting firm right after getting his Masters at UCLA. By the time he realized maybe Texas wasn't the right place for a WASP from the Northeast he had put down considerable roots, having bought a house. Then they had started dating, and once they had gotten serious, when Bill proposed a month earlier, the idea of Bill moving back to New England was thrown out for good.

Suddenly she was rewarded for her patience when she heard his voice.

_Sookie? Darling? You there? _

"Yeah, Bill, of course. I'm here patiently waiting like you asked. I'm not gonna hang up on you!" She laughed.

_Well, of course not. Just you're quiet. _

"Would you feel better if I was on hold talking to myself?"

_Well_, _when you put it that way, no_. He laughed.

"Yeah, me neither," Sookie replied. "Although if ever there were a time for me to start talking to myself, now would be it."

_What? Why? What's going on? Did the tenants damage the house? _

"What? Oh, no. No, nothing like that. The house is fine. Surprisingly, considering. Maybe they did all that criminal activity to take care of the farm. Who knows? Maybe I'll go visit them in prison and thank them for being such good tenants."

_Well, if the house is okay, then what is the problem? _

"Oh," Sookie let out a breath. "Well, no one reacted well to my email about selling the house."

_Well, I imagine they all are concerned about getting their things, right? You said they had stuff stored at the house still? _

"Yeah, everyone's got stuff here still. In fact, there's more here today than there was yesterday," she mumbled. "There's more people too."

_What are you saying, Sookie? Who's there with you? Stop speaking in riddles. You know I don't have time for this. _

Sookie rolled her eyes. Bill could be so…not fun…sometimes. _Well, guess I'll just spit it out so he can go back to work. _"Well, its not just that they were upset about their stuff. No one wants the house sold. So everyone came home. Yesterday."

_What? _

"You heard me. Everyone. Tara flew in from New York. Hoyt and Hunter basically ran away from San Antonio on a Greyhound bus. Amelia hitched a ride from New Orleans. Even Jason is here. He was released from active service a few days ago, bought a car and made a beeline straight for home."

_Oh, no. I'm so sorry, darling. This is very distressing. How childish and careless of them. One thing for the children, but your brother and sister are certainly old enough to not act so impetuously. You'll have to get them all to go back from where they came. _

Never mind the fact that that exact thought had been Sookie's initial response. Hearing it from Bill irked her. It was one thing if _she_ slammed her siblings for their thoughtlessness, stupidity, and stubbornness, but no one else—including Bill—had the right to do that. Besides, _get them all to go back from where they came? Does he think they're trained circus animals or something? _

"Uh, why do you think that?" She figured she knew where he was coming from but was still curious as to what he would say.

_Well, Sookie, you live here with me now. I know you were the head of them all and guardian to the children but you're not moving back to Bon Temps, therefore they must all leave. _

Bill made it sound so simple, yet she knew it wasn't simple. It was actually quite complicated. Sookie knew his assessment made sense—on the face of it—but still it made her sad.

"Yeah, well, I may not be the head of them all, not anymore. Jason's pretty on top of things," she sighed. "I think his stint with the Navy must've included 'mutiny' training because he's all over this."

_Why? What do you mean?_ Bill's tone sounded agitated.

"Oh, its just," Sookie took a breath, considering her words. "Jase has grown up. He's kind of all 'take charge.' Tara's here too, remember. She wants to stay. And the kids... Ame managed to get herself expelled and the boys running off didn't exactly endear themselves to Aunt Linda, so she doesn't want them back." Sookie took a deep breath. "Regardless of what anyone _wants_, the kids don't have anywhere else to go. Jason, for that matter, doesn't either. Tara quit her job and gave notice on her apartment. So, it looks like all the Stackhouses have come home to roost."

_Well, all but one, darling_.

"Yeah, all but one." Sookie agreed. _Thanks, Bill, for reminding me. _

_Well, what about money to keep it going? I hope they don't expect me to support them all. _

_Well, now. Way to go with the support system, Bill_. That just pissed Sookie off. It wasn't like he supported her. Why would he even think her family might hold some expectation of him supporting them? She had never, ever given him any indication that she expected anything other than 50 percent equality in their relationship, including their finances. He could be so thick sometimes.

"No, Bill," she stared stonily ahead as she clipped her words. "No one expects you to be swooping in and saving the day."

_Oh_, _well, yes. I mean, of course, I'll do anything I can, darling, but I'm not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination_.

_Sure, Trust Fund. Save it_. She was already finding herself a bit tired of this conversation. They tended not to do well over the phone.

"No, Bill." She rolled her eyes although she wondered whether or not it counted if there was no one there to see it? She smiled to herself. "No one is looking for handouts from you. Or from me, for that matter. Jase is set on getting a job. Tara's here to help out. The kids can go to the public school. Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane and JB —as well as everyone else—is still around and I'm sure no one will go hungry or anything."

_Oh, Sookie_, _I just realized that you must be working yourself quite hard with everyone home. Are you taking care of yourself? Are you taking your vitamins? _

Sometimes it just irked her the way Bill was seemingly obsessed with her taking vitamins. _Maybe he owns stock in Vitamin Shoppe_?

"Hmmm, about that..." Rather than let him think she was working herself to the bone, she figured she may as well come clean. "We actually have a few house-guests," she told him breezily. "One of them has taken to doing the laundry and linens, while the other has been performing miracles in the kitchen."

_What? House-guests? Strangers? Who are these people?_

Sookie thought about how best to respond to Bill's question. Who are these people? Interesting question. Miracle workers? The Stackhouse 'yangs' they'd been waiting for? _If I try to explain, would Bill get it that some cosmic game of the universe has miraculously sent us the perfect houseguests? Naw, I don't think he'd get it._

"Well, Tara met this woman at the airport. She missed her bus tour and had nowhere to go and was kind of lost so Tara and Jason brought her home. And Amelia hitched a ride with a business woman on I-49. And Hoyt and Hunter got a lift from Shreveport with Eric Northman."

Dead silence.

_Eric Northman? The actor? _

"Yep. Isn't that something?" She was very nonchalant about it. Well, she _was_ very nonchalant about it. For the most part.

_Eric Northman is staying at your house? With you? But why? _

She didn't really have a good answer to that. Truthfully, each of their guests had money and means to go somewhere else. They could easily get hotel rooms in Shreveport. Eric, she knew, already had a room in Shreveport. None of them had cars but there were plenty of rental places out by the airport. If they stayed in Shreveport, they'd have mobility, options and flexibility. But she couldn't help but recognize the fact that nobody wanted to leave. They want to stay at the farm. She couldn't blame them for that as she found herself feeling pangs of dread every time she thought about returning to Dallas

"Um, well, Pam—that's the business woman—and Eric kind of collided their cars the other night on the property. And so there really was no way to get back to Shreveport then, as it was so late and a really bad squall came in. Anyway, now, everyone's kind of settled into a little routine. It's like summer camp. You been to summer camp, Bill?"

_No. _

Why was she not surprised? "Well, it's just different enough from your normal life to be fun and interesting, but not so different that you're worried about anything."

_Ah... Let me understand this. Eric Northman is staying at your farm because he misses summer camp? _Bill's voice sounded cold and dismissive.

Truthfully, hearing Bill say it like that it sounded fucktarded, but it had made sense to Sookie when she'd said it. "Uh, yeah, Bill."

_Sookie, I'm concerned about the goings-on at the house. I don't like all this… this sudden upheaval. There was a plan. It was set in place and now it seems to have fallen by the wayside. _

"Yeah, Bill, I agree," and she did. "The plan's been shot to hell. That's why we've gotta make a new plan."

_Well, it sounds like you need some help with that_.

"Excuse me?"_ What? Seriously? _

_Sookie, you heard me. I think your brother and your siblings blindsided you. I'm concerned that you're all emotional—as well as you should be—happy to see one another, and to be at home for the first time in awhile. But, I'm wondering that you need someone who is removed—emotionally—from the situation, who can assess things in a clearheaded manner. _

"Oh," that's all she could get out. She really was shocked. Was Bill proposing that he leave Dallas and come out to Bon Temps? "Bill, are you suggesting you come out here?"

_Yes, of course, darling_. _If you need me, I'll be there as soon as I can_.

"Oh, wow. I didn't think you'd be able to adjust your schedule. I wouldn't have asked—"

_Darling, you don't have to. I'm quite concerned about all this. I don't want to worry about you. So I'll come out there as soon as I can. _

"Oh, okay. Wow, you'll get to meet everyone!"

_Yes_.

"When do you think you'll be able to get out here?"

_Well, I need to figure out how to adjust my deadlines and work schedule. I was, as you know, in the middle of several very important projects, but don't you worry about that. I will work it out and let you know. Maybe later tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I'll give you a quick call or send a text when I know my travel plans._

"Oh, okay, Bill. Wow, I can't believe you're going to meet everyone! I figured it might not happen until the wedding! This will be …nice." Nice. Observing her siblings for the past twelve hours, Sookie wasn't sure how much she meant that. The kids had always seemed pretty lukewarm around Bill. Now they seemed to visibly make faces when his name was mentioned. Sookie thought she'd even caught Pam smirking when Bill's name came up. Tara had demonstrated the enthusiasm of a dental patient going in for root canal at the prospect of meeting her fiance.

After the couple exchanged their goodbyes, Bill spent a few minutes staring at his phone. He mentally rewound and replayed the conversation he'd just had with his fiancee. At Sookie's assessment that his visit would be "nice," he had to waiver. He wasn't sure how 'nice' it was going to be, but it was definitely going to be.

_Eric Northman, indeed. Summer camp? Sookie Camp was more like it!_

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AN: Thank you for reading/rereading****! Whether you are a rereader or a new reader, please let me know what you think. Your random comments are my plot bunnies/walking papers to write more. LMAO. "Sookie Camp". That Bill. So witty. **


	22. Fuck the Stackhouses!

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**C****hapter Twenty-Two: Fuck the Stackhouses!**

After finishing up his conversation with Sookie, Jason headed outside to see what had Hunter in such an uproar. Jason could tell Eric was doing his best to calm him down, but a Stackhouse temper is not something the uninitiated can easily manage on a first attempt.

Making his way out to the oak tree, Jason posed a question to his younger brother.

"Alright, I could see the smoke comin' out of your ears from inside the house. What the hell is going on?"

Hunter looked at him and without pause launched into his explanation.

"I finally made it up to the tree house—_nice to take fucking forever with the cars, this morning_—and some asshole's graffiti'd it all up. Inside it says "Fuck the Stackhouses." You believe that? Some fucktard goes through the trouble of getting a ladder out there—either they dragged their own or they picked the shed lock—and after all that, the best they can come up with is "Fuck the Stackhouses"? "

"Wow, I dunno who'd do that." Jason expelled a breath. He was baffled.

"Well, I do know. I know exactly who it was. It was that half-breed, Cal Myers or Cal Norris, whatever the fuck his name is. He's always been jealous of my tree house. And he's got them weird beady little eyes. Like you know something's off with him. Before I left, he was always asking to come over and see the tree house. But you know something? I didn't like him. I didn't want him in my tree house. I was never mean, but I'd ignore him when he asked, figuring he'd forget about it. But then we left and that was that. But I know he did this!" Hunter, calm for a bit, resumed screaming. "_I know he did this! I recognize his 'S'! I'd know that 'S' anywhere! I'm gonna go find him and I'm gonna kick the shit out of him!_"

Jason and Eric exchanged a glance. Jason looked thoughtful. While it was highly likely that Hunter—who always seemed to know a bit more than you expected him to—had pegged the right culprit, it didn't seem right that letting him just go over to the kid's house to kick the shit out of him was the right thing to do, especially since the kid lived in Hotshot, a crossroads about ten miles away.

"Well, Hunt, you can't just go over and beat the shit out of the kid. Why don't we call his parents instead?" Jason proposed.

Hunter did the Stackhouse eye roll. "Jase, I _know_ he did it." Hunter was trying to spell it out. "If we call and ask him if he did it, he's just gonna say he didn't. That's how these…these…_vermin_ are!"

"Well, Hunt, I'm sorry. I can't just let you go over to Hotshot to kick the shit out of this kid, even if he did graffiti the tree house." Jason paused. "Let's think about this and see if there might be a better way to get back at him."

Eric looked at Jason and shook his head. Far be it for him to advise anyone on parenting but somehow he didn't think coming up with 'alternative revenge scenarios' was what the child psychologists would advise.

"Oh, okay," Hunter seemed to resign himself and simmer down somewhat. Eric wondered at Jason's solution. It worked? Maybe the boy would forget about it? Possibly lose interest in seeking revenge?

"Yeah, you're right. We should figure out how to really get 'im where he lives."

Okay, maybe not.

"Well, in the meantime," Jason attempted to distract his younger brother, "let's get some paint to take care of the graffiti, huh?"

"Yeah, we gotta do that."

"Go get the painting stuff. It's in the shed."

"Yep, will do."

Once Hunter had run off, Eric turned to Jason and asked, "Did you talk with Sookie about the house?"

"Yeah." Jason said nothing else, keeping his face still.

"Well," Eric laughed, "were you going to say anything?"

Jason laughed. Lighthearted, he couldn't help it. "We talked and she's kind of conceded to a few things."

"What?"

"Well, she can't argue with the fact that the kids are not going back. I'm home now. Tara gave up her apartment, quit her job. So, like it or not, we're all here now. There's a little bit of money to see us through for a bit. I have some money saved up. And we're figuring out how to get more money." Jason started to chuckle. "And as much as she might want to argue the money thing, she can't argue the fact that none of us has right at the moment anywhere else to fuckin' go."

Seeing the irony, Eric joined Jason in his laughter. "Did you speak with Tara this morning?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah, she chased down the town clerk and picked up some info. We're gonna go through it when she gets back. Speaking of which, she said she's gonna run a few errands. Do you know when you need to get in to Shreveport? I can drive you—or maybe Sookie can—but it'll have to be in Sook's car. Or maybe she'll let you borrow the Cabrio?"

Eric wasn't altogether confident on the last one. "I need to call and find out. They're doing some script revisions, but there are still photo shoots scheduled."

"Oh. Well, if you head in, I'd say swing by your hotel and grab some more stuff," Jason raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "You'd be more comfortable."

Eric heard Jason's words, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on the idea he'd been toying with for the past—What? Day? Half day? How long had he been there, anyway? He had signed a three-year contract to do the show. That being the case, he'd be based in Shreveport for six months out of the year for the next three years. Although he had a hotel room in Shreveport that cost several thousand dollars a week, he obviously preferred the farm to staying at his hotel.

What exactly was he looking to propose though?

"Jason, I have a proposition." Eric met Jason's gaze.

"Yeah?" Jason's expression became serious. "What's on your mind, Eric?"

"Well, as you know, I have a contract that has me committed to living in Shreveport for six months out of the year for the next three years—"

"Geez, Eric, no, I didn't realize all that. You said you'd be around northern Louisiana. Man, you gotta stay here. With us. You're like family now. Honorary Stackhouse. You can't be living in a hotel for six months."

Eric looked at Jason. When he tried to wrap his mind around the events of the past day—what he'd gained—he really couldn't believe it.

"Hmmm," Eric cleared his throat. "That is kind of what I was thinking. But I was considering a more permanent arrangement. One that would give me some freedom to fit out the place out as I'd like, while it would give you some money up front. If you did what you were thinking about—carving out an apartment—maybe you could subdivide a condo. I would pay for the construction." At the look on Jason's face, Eric kept talking. "I'd be ahead, all things considered, with the hotel costs and everything."

A tiny falsehood. The studio picked up the cost of his hotel during filming. Although, Eric would definitely come out ahead. That part was true. It just had nothing to do with money. It was just…something he'd been missing…something he'd found…here. He'd never had a big family. It was nice. It was more than nice. It was fuckawesome as Jason would say.

"Well, woohoo, Eric! I don't know what to say. I think that's a great idea. As long as you don't mind the kids—and, of course, I'd have to ask you to be discrete with guests." Jason eyes opened wide as an idea percolated in his brain. "Maybe we could build you a Batman Entrance so you don't have to worry about that! Wouldn't want to cramp your style. America's Sexiest Man Alive shouldn't be cockblocked by a bunch of Stackhouse kids." Jason nodded thoughtfully.

Grinning, Eric shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'm not nearly as busy as the magazines make me out to be."

"Oh, yeah? Recovering from a broken heart?" Jason made a face and brought his hands up to his heart.

"No. I just," Eric paused, considering his words, "haven't been that…interested in anyone lately…" he let his words drop off.

"You 'interested' in anyone now?" Jason gave him a knowing look.

_Prick_, Eric thought. _Jason's got my number_. "Maybe." Honesty is the best policy. Besides, these Stackhouses are close. It might come down to Jason putting in a good word one day.

"Well, you know, _she's_ the one Stackhouse that's _not_ planning on living here."

"Yes, I realize that."

"You got something planned?" Jason asked. Eric pondered the question. Did he have something planned? No, he couldn't say that he did.

"No, not really. I'm just going to keep my eyes open for opportunities."

"Well, here's some advice. For some reason, Sook's got it out for you to leave. You called that. Sorry I doubted you," Jason shrugged. "Anyway, my advice to you is to not give her any reason to get in a tizzy over you being here. And," Jason started to laugh, "if you know how to do anything useful, like pruning, or mowing, or planting flowers, now's the time to bust it out."

"What? Why?"

"Well, Sook can't help but own up that Maxine's taking care of the housekeeping and Pam's doing all the cooking. So if they left, we'll be in a hole having to do it all ourselves. But, when it comes to you, she's all 'he's not doing anything,'" Jason made his voice higher, mimicking his sister, "'he can go.'"

"Ah, point taken," Eric looked blindly ahead. "I'm sure I could find something to do, where I'm best using my talents."

"Whoa, boy. Firstly, no, that's not what I meant. Secondly, she's my sister. Please." Jason laughed. "I'd say go check out the shed. Some of the stuff in there is as old as dirt. If you don't recognize it, and you've got no idea how to use it, chances are Sook doesn't either. Just pretend," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "None of us'll know the difference. Shit, play out back and do voodoo spells on the weeds, for all I care. Although Ame might get annoyed that you're on her turf."

Delighted with the turn of events, Eric smiled. Still having trouble taking it all in, he considered finding Pam and asking her to pinch him. But, he decided against it, knowing that she'd likely take him far too seriously and bruise the living daylights out of him. She could be freakishly strong.

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AN: Thank you for reading/rereading****! Whether you're a rereader or a new reader, I'd love to hear what you think. Your comments & observations = plot bunnies. PS This is why I love Hunter. **


	23. Terry

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Terry**

Tara and Hoyt pulled up in front of Old Man Bellefleur's house just off Main Street. Tara had tried to call Terry but his phone was either off the hook or he hadn't paid his phone bill. Or maybe it was a cordless phone and he'd failed to pay his electric bill. Terry, a war vet, just wasn't right in the head. As sweet a man as could be found in Bon Temps, he wasn't always the easiest person to be friends with. He would have temper flare-ups once in a while. He would forget things. He suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. But, he swore to Hoyt up and down that he'd care for Long Shadow like the dog was his own. Of course, since poor Terry had buried more than a dozen dogs in the past 20 years, maybe this wasn't a good enough reason to leave the dog with Terry. But Long Shadow had been in a litter from one of Terry's dogs, so they were kin. Besides, Hoyt, undisputedly the sweetest natured of the Stackhouse kids, wouldn't have dreamed of not trusting Terry; Terry was his friend.

After Tara parked the car, she and Hoyt got out and walked around to the side door, as Terry never used the front door. As startling Terry was never a good thing, Tara sincerely hoped he had heard the car pull into his driveway. In an effort to give the man the head's up that he had guests, Tara purposely stomped her feet, shook her handbag, and spoke to Hoyt in as loud a voice as she could without blatantly screaming.

"HEY, Hoyt, you SHUT the car DOOR?"

Hoyt looked at his sister like she had suddenly sprouted wings. "What the heck are you—" Hoyt quieted down at the wide-eyed "shut up" look Tara threw him.

_Oh, yeah_, he thought. _Right. Terry's nerves_.

"Oh, YEAH, Tar, I SHUT the DOOR," he responded. "Can you SEE if the LIGHT is on in Terry's HOUSE?"

"NO, I don't see a LIGHT on in Terry's HOUSE."

Just then the side door opened with a violent bang and Terry stood before them with his shotgun. Staring right at them, yet not seeing them, he called out. "What do you want? Who are you?"

"Terry!" Hoyt screeched and ran to him, throwing his arms around his friend. "It's so good to see you!"

Feeling the boy's arms around him, Terry's mind awakened. "Oh. Ah. Hey kid," Terry leaned his shotgun against the side of the house. "Don't worry. It's not loaded. Hoyt, my boy, how are you? You're so big! As big as Jason, I reckon. And who's this? Sook? Naw, it's Tara. Hey, Tara, you're looking good. How're you all doing?"

Tara was extremely pleased that Hoyt had managed to focus Terry so quickly onto the present. Tara figured that six-line speech may very well have been the most conversation Terry Bellefleur had had in months. Tara looked on, a little misty-eyed, as the man hugged Hoyt. Terry reached out to her with his left hand and she grabbed it, smiling.

"How're you, Terry? You look good." Not necessarily the truth, Tara was nothing if not the consummate Southerner when it came to good manners.

_And, truth be told_, she thought, _I've seen him look worse_.

"Oh, good. Good y'know." He finally broke off from Hoyt's embrace.

Hoyt started to look around. "Terry, where's Long Shadow?"

"Oh, he's around back. I put fencing up so he can't get out. We got some wolves around lately. They're getting the pets."

Hoyt and Tara exchanged a wide-eyed look. Bon Temps had never had a problem with wolves. Coyotes were relatively common, but there weren't too many wolf sightings.

The two Stackhouses followed Terry as he walked around the side of the house to the backyard.

Tara marveled at the yard when they'd reached the gate. When Terry said he'd put up fencing, he meant it. A huge, high fence enclosed about a half-acre of woods and shrubs in Terry's yard.

Hoyt, meanwhile, didn't even see the fence; his stomach was in such a knot. At one point, as they trailed after Terry, Hoyt had grabbed his sister's hand. Smiling at her brother, Tara gave his hand a quick squeeze and had nodded encouragingly at him. She could feel the tension in his hand; it was palpable, how nervous he was.

Once Terry had led them into the yard, he finally called out for the dog. "Hey, boy! Long Shadow! Here boy!"

As they waited for the dog to appear, the silence was deafening. Tara didn't think Hoyt was even breathing. She pulled her hand from his tight grasp and gave him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. He didn't turn from where he was staring into the yard. Hearing his breath hitch, Tara looked up to see what had caught his eye. While it wasn't a surprise, it was a miracle. Tara could see Long Shadow lopping along in the distance. Suddenly he began to bark.

Hoyt, frozen, just watched his dog. His best friend. The boy's lips moved but no words came forth. Finally he was able to reclaim his vocal chords.

"Long Shadow! Hey boy!"

The dog barked a happy reply and made a beeline for Hoyt. Hoyt met his dog halfway, running to him, falling to knees, and hugging him like he'd never let him go. Pretty soon the two were rolling around on the grass, Long Shadow giving Hoyt saliva kisses allover his face. Hoyt was in ecstasy.

Tara, bleary eyed, couldn't tear her eyes away. Finally, she chanced a glance at Terry who was similarly mesmerized. After a few moments, Terry, seeing Tara's tear-streaked face, quickly retrieved a fresh, folded handkerchief from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

"Oh," she breathed the word more than saying it aloud. "Thanks, Terry. Thank you, for everything." Wow, Terry had really done it. All along Tara had had reservations about leaving Long Shadow in Terry's care, but somehow he had come through for them.

_Long Shadow looks good_, she thought. _He seems happy and healthy! Whew_!

"Ah, Tara. It wasn't nothing. Hoyt needed someone to keep his little buddy safe until he came home."

"Yeah, but he's really…well," Tara stumbled. She didn't want to remind Terry of his bad luck keeping dogs alive. _Think Tar, think of something else_. "Hoyt was worried Long Shadow wouldn't remember him."

"Ah, no. Hoyt left a t-shirt behind. I made sure it never got washed. It was the sheet on Long Shadow's bed," he laughed, still watching the boy-dog lovefest in his yard. "I gotta say though. That dog—he never moves it. It's always in the bed. He actually pulled it out yesterday. Like he knew Hoyt was coming home to get him. Funny thing that, huh?" He turned to look at Tara.

Tara, her eyes glued to her brother, pulled them away to meet Terry's eyes.

"Wow, Terry." She felt new tears threatening. "Hoyt didn't know he was coming home until yesterday. None of us did. It was kind of a…" She searched for the right words. "Spontaneous Stackhouse reunion."

"What? Who else is home?"

"We all are."

"No shit. Jase?"

"Yeah, Jase, too. He's off active duty and he came home straight away. Me, the boys, Ame and Sookie, too."

"Yeah, I'd heard from Jane DuRone that Sookie was gonna be around to clean out the house. The story is you guys are selling the place? That's a damn shame. Fine family, the Stackhouses. I knew your granddaddy Earl years and years ago."

"Actually, Terry," Tara took a deep breath. "The rumors of the Stackhouses' imminent departure are greatly exaggerated."

"What?"

"I mean it's not definite we're selling the house. We're all home for now."

"Aw, Tar, that's great news." Suddenly Tara was in enfolded in Terry's big bear hold of a hug. "Your family is fine people. Your family is like the backbone of this town. Wouldn't be the same without you all."

"Oh, Terry." Tara was genuinely surprised by his words and overcome with emotion. For possibly the twentieth time in the past two days, she wondered again why leaving Bon Temps seemed like such a great idea last year. "That's so sweet of you to say that. It's so good to be home!"

_Now I just need to figure out how to keep us all here_, she thought.

"Hoyt! Hey! I gotta go to the Town Clerk's Office and meet Holly Cleary. Either you come with or you stay here, if it's okay with Terry." She turned to look at Terry.

"Oh, no. That's fine, Tar. You go. Take care of what you need to take care of. I kept the dog safe for a year. I think your brother'll be okay for an hour."

Tara turned back to look at where Hoyt had picked up a ball and was playing catch and retrieve with Long Shadow.

Or just retrieve—after some coaxing, she thought. _How can a dog be so uncoordinated to not be able to catch a ball?_ She smiled. _A little twisted, that puppy. A true Stackhouse. _

Tara grabbed Terry's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll be back in an hour. Two, tops."

"It's okay, Tara. I'm happy to have the company."

Tara nodded and got into Jason's car. As she wiped her eyes again so she could see, she realized she'd have to wash and return Terry's handkerchief. Silently she whispered to herself as she left._ You're good people, too, Terry. _

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**AN: You all know it's a mash-up but 'Terry' doesn't exist in the Cadell book. I just wanted him in my story. BTW, in spite of no Eric, no Sookie, this is one of my favorite chapters. Thanks for reading. Find me on LiveJournal. Please! I'm maldiscontent/Miral. Link on my FF profile. I post teasers, previews, and twisted ideas I get once in a while. With the right encouragement, I'll write almost anything. :D**


	24. Who's Gonna Drive You Home Tonight?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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Chapter Twenty-Four: Who's Gonna Drive You Home Tonight?**

A few hours and several hedge clipper-induced blisters later, Eric found himself in the passenger seat of Sookie's cranberry Cabrio. When he'd called to check in, Russell told him that due to the need for script revisions—including adding "Little Ricky" in—they'd only be doing promotions that week. So, while Eric didn't have filming, he did have a photo shoot.

As he sat quietly, Eric threw periodic surreptitious glances at Sookie. Adhering to Jason's advice, he had restrained himself from initiating conversation. He knew if he said anything that could be interpreted as an indicator that the situation was at all inconvenient, Sookie would be on him to leave. Embracing the silence, he allowed himself the quiet enjoyment of being in her company. However, he still wanted to talk to her. Searching for a neutral topic, he realized how much he was enjoying the Cabrio's superior German engineering.

_There_. _A safe topic. _"This is a nice car," he remarked. "Handles well."

"Yes," Sookie, smiling, agreed. "Too well sometimes. It's easy to go over the limit. But, it is a lot of fun."

He would not have pegged her as a regular flouter of traffic laws. "Do you speed often?"

"Ha," she snorted. "It sounds like you're feeding me that line, 'do you come here often'?"

Eric chuckled. "Not quite," he glanced over at her. "I just didn't have you down as someone who flouts traffic laws."

"Mr. Northman," she replied in a pretend huffy voice. "You may think I'm an open book, but I'm not." Possibly betraying its position—wedged firmly at the forefront of her mind—Sookie grabbed the opportunity to change the topic. "I know," she removed one hand from the steering wheel to wave it for emphasis, "this may seem very straightforward to you. The five orphans want to come home. The mean older sister won't let them. But I'm telling you: it's not like that. It comes down to a matter of money. Or, lack of money rather."

Now, _that_ was something Eric had been wondering about since his arrival on the scene. The house was impressive. The property was substantial. They were obviously well-educated. Amelia had been at a private school. Tara had been to graduate school. He could not help but wonder why the family did not have the means to keep the house? He decided to bite the bullet and ask.

"Sookie, your home is very impressive and has obviously been well-maintained." He paused to consider his words. "It seems that your family did have money until recently. Did it all go for your mother's illness?"

Eric recognized—and was fully aware that Sookie would recognize—the fact that his question crossed the line, extending as it did far beyond mild curiosity. In truth, the question pried into her family's history. He knew this but hoped she would answer it anyway. He found himself curious about her. He had been since Hoyt and Hunter had first described their beautiful older sister, the one who had inherited the responsibility for her younger siblings, while she herself, arguably, was still a child. Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to know about her—_know her_—this need to remain at arm's length so as to not incur her wrath was making it difficult to spend any time alone with her. But here they were. Alone. It was an opportunity he could not pass up. He waited patiently as she remained silent. He watched her face for signs of agitation. It was with pleasure and surprise, he noted they never appeared.

_Maybe she's yielding_. Watching her, she seemed thoughtful. Reflective. Finally she resolved her inner debate. Without fanfare, she spoke.

"You're right. My mother's illness took up what was left from Daddy's life insurance and the money he left us. She didn't have good health coverage and well—you know what that story is. As for money in the family, there was money, but it was complicated.

"My grandmother, Adele Hale Stackhouse Brigant, married twice. My grandfather was her first husband, Earl Stackhouse. He died when my daddy was 13. Now Earl was the farmer. It was from his people we got the land and the original part of the house. Gran remarried a couple of years later. A New Orleans businessman she met while visiting New Orleans. His name was Niall Brigant. My Aunt Linda—her last name is Brigant—was born in 1968. Niall didn't care much to live here, so they split their time but were mostly in New Orleans, although they put money into adding to the Bon Temps house and keeping it up. Niall had a reputation to maintain and he would have his business associates up once in a while for 'time in the country.'

"Niall was good with my dad. He treated him like a son. But he traveled a lot for his business, he was always popping here and there. He flew his own single-engine jet and finally one time he didn't make it back. That was in 1975, and after that Gran moved back to Bon Temps with Aunt Linda. My dad was in school but he came back here eventually too and then married my mom and settled here. All of us were born here.

"When Niall died, he actually didn't leave my dad anything. He was a bizarre one. I don't know why—by all counts they were close. My dad had fond memories of him. My Gran obviously loved him. But he just had this old-world mentality about 'blood ties' and 'family first.'" She sighed.

Eric suspected—from the weight of Sookie's sigh—that had Niall Brigant's old world values been different, life would have been much easier for this crew.

"So what happened after Niall died?"

"Well, he left a trust to Gran that reverted to Linda after Gran passed. And they weren't to share. Part of the deal. Gran did what she could, though. She wasted no time in signing the house over to Daddy and she gave him whatever money she had, independent of Niall's trust. She was able to give us gifts each year that helped with tuition and stuff. Truthfully, my parents were doing okay. My dad was a lawyer and my mom did interior design. But then he died and she got sick, and six kids aren't cheap, despite what Hollywood wants you to believe," she observed.

"Anyway, Aunt Linda lived in the house until she was 18, then went away to college and then grad school... She never lived here again. She was pretty shaken when my dad died. Despite the age difference—15 years—she and my dad were pretty close. She felt horrible after mama died. She'd been close to her too. Anyway, she felt guilty, I guess, because she'd been in Texas for so long. So she offered to take the boys and," Sookie shook her head remembering, "I didn't have a job. I didn't know where I was gonna wind up really, so her taking them seemed like a good solution. At least at the time. We were supposed to revisit it," she shrugged. "The boys, Aunt Linda, no one ever said a word to me that anything was wrong with the way things were. And then—" She fell silent.

"Yes? Then?" Eric prodded. Enjoying the lilt of her voice, Eric was beyond pleased that she was opening up to him. Cognizant of the prying nature of his question, he, nonetheless, thought it best to keep the conversation moving in any direction but the "so-when-will-you-be-leaving?" direction.

"Then Aunt Linda met her boyfriend, Felipe. They met maybe a year and a half ago. He swept her off her feet. She got pregnant soon after the boys moved down there. I don't know if Felipe knows about her trust or not. She actually set up a charitable foundation –in honor of my dad, later added my mom's name to it." Sookie paused here and shook her head. "That Niall. A real prince. What a control freak. Linda couldn't share the money with her brother or his family, but she could give it away to strangers. Sometimes things just don't make sense, do they?" She turned slightly to glance at Eric.

"I'd have to agree with you on that one," Eric returned her look. "Sometimes they just don't."

A few minutes later, Sookie was pulling up in front of the Greyhound station.

"Uh," she turned her head and frowned. "You sure you want me to leave you here? It's pretty sketchy. We have a family description for places like this. It's the 'Place Where People Go to Die'."

Eric snorted. "It's also the place where film people come to tape TV shows about vampires," he laughed. "So maybe the Stackhouses should consider a family business scouting film locations?"

Sookie laughed. "Maybe."

Once their laughter subsided, it didn't take them long to realize that something indefinable had shifted in the air around them. Without warning the undercurrent of energy that seemed to pulse just below the surface whenever they were near each other quietly and decisively rose to the top and settled there.

Turning briefly away from Sookie, Eric cleared his throat. "The film trailers," Eric explained, "are around the corner." Meeting her gaze, he paused once more before continuing. "I'd like to thank you for the lift. I enjoyed it." That was an understatement. Not only had dropped her hostile attitude, she'd also lowered her guard, permitting him a peek inside. Sitting there he hesitated. He knew it was time for him to get out of the car, but he didn't want to leave her.

Sookie similarly found herself at a loss. She was surprised to note how dry her mouth was. She realized it was because her bottom lip had fallen open a little bit. She brought her lips together, biting her lower lip. With difficulty, she finally broke their eye contact and focused her gaze straight ahead. Quiet, she took a few seconds to reply. When she did respond, she was proud at how normal her voice sounded. It didn't sound at all like her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest.

"You're welcome, Eric," she said. Low, her voice was steady. "Anything I can do to help sort this muddle," she responded, glancing back at him. "I'm only too happy to do. I do feel badly that everyone—you and Pam, especially—got so unsettled the other night." She continued to look at him.

Eric removed the seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Shutting the passenger door, he leaned down, peering through the open passenger window.

"Please don't think anything of it," he reassured her. "It was," he searched for the right word, "_worth_ it."

At Eric's words, Sookie's eyebrow shot up in surprise. She studied him intently.

"'Worth it'? Well, I'm not sure I'd see it that way, if I had my $100,000 car smashed up. But I suppose maybe we have different value systems." Though her words sounded harsh, the her tone was neutral Eric noted.

"Maybe," he smiled at her. "Maybe not."

Before she could stop herself she smiled back at him. "You alright finding your way back?"

"Yes," he nodded, still smiling. "Don't worry about me."

"I wouldn't worry, Eric. You seem like you know how to take care of yourself."

_Yes, I do_. "I'll see you later."

"Yep." With a final nod, she drove away.

As Eric stood and watched the little red convertible pull away from the curb, he couldn't help but wonder: _Was it worth it? _

She was beautiful. Stubborn. Controlling. Passionate. She obviously had a temper. Her baggage filled a ten-bedroom house.

She had a fiancé.

_So, was it worth it?_

_Yes_. Smiling to himself he turned to make his way to the film studio.

**

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AN: Thank you for reading/rereading****! Rereaders, don't forget the poll on my profile to vote for the funniest character! Pam's in the lead but Hunter won on a separate poll on my blog. Check out the link on my profile for casting but DON'T LOOK AT THE FASHION LINKS! It's for the "Breakfast with Bill" chapter which is ~10 chapters away. DON'T SPOIL THE SURPRISE FOR YOURSELF! (Unless you're a rereader, in which, have at it.) :D Find me on LiveJournal. Please. Maldiscontent. **


	25. Team Stackhouse

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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Chapter Twenty-Five: Team Stackhouse

After dropping Eric off in Shreveport, Sookie ran a few errands –including picking up more groceries. She was back at the farm by the early afternoon—as was nearly everybody else. Tara and Hoyt had not yet come home and Eric Northman was still in Shreveport, as he should be.

While Sookie wasn't surprised everyone had already had lunch by the time she got home, she was, however, very surprised to hear that Pam had made three bean salad and babaganoush. She was slowly recognizing the fact that she needed to just accept that Pam was obviously a savant in the kitchen but she still couldn't figure out how Pam did it. How was the woman able to pull together intricate, exotic meals from the random ingredients that currently filled the pantry?

_Who the heck just whips up babaganoush?_

Her thoughts traveled effortlessly from Pam to Eric—the two were so entwined in her mind. Sookie sincerely hoped People's Sexiest Man Alive would just take all the hints she'd been throwing his way and leave. Someone was paying for him to have a high-end hotel room. It was a waste of money for him to not be staying in it. Besides that, the farm with the shared baths and limited privacy couldn't be comfortable for him, considering how he must be accustomed to living in luxury. She knew his being there did nothing for her own comfort levels.

Shaking her head, she wondered –again—just what the heck was wrong with her. For some inexplicable reason, she had Hollywood's most eligible bachelor staying at her house and she couldn't just enjoy it for what it was; a giddy ludicrous novelty. Nope. She just wanted him gone.

But it wasn't without good reason. Then there was that—_what would you call it?_—episode in the Cabrio when she dropped him off at the studio. He knew the power he wielded over the opposite sex and he got off on it. It was a game to him. Sookie was sure of this. It made her fear that he was reading her repeated rejections at his attempts to flirt with her as a challenge.

Sookie knew he couldn't possibly be serious. He'd dated dozens of gorgeous actresses and celebrities. He was only interested in her because she was rejecting him. He obviously was one of those guys who thrived on the thrill of the pursuit. She didn't want anything to do with his nonsense. Add to that the fact that she was engaged and unavailable. What more could the man ask for? More than just summer camp, it was like he'd landed in his own Amusement Park.

Thinking of her engaged status reminded Sookie that she hadn't yet heard from Bill. She wondered when she'd hear from him and when he'd actually make it out there. She knew he was juggling a few deadlines. Honestly, if he was going to be stressed about work, it might be better that he not come. But he'd seemed quite insistent about the matter. For some reason, he was particularly dead-set on coming after he heard Eric Northman was at the house.

With her thoughts back on Eric, Sookie turned over in her mind the way he seemed determined to interfere in the family situation. Suddenly she had an 'Ah ha!' moment. Eric Northman was treating the Stackhouses like the paparazzi treated him. He was just hanging around lurking in the background, watching them. Well, she conceded maybe it wasn't exactly the same. It wasn't like he was stalking them with cameras, but still he was around all the time and trying to insinuate himself into the mix somehow.

She was positive he was influencing Jason. Her brother had never lacked self-confidence, but this 'head of the household' thing was definitely a new thing. Maybe he was getting some behind-the-scenes lessons in acting the part?

_Stop it, Sookie. Even you can't possibly be that cynical!_

Back at the house, Sookie immediately was taken aback again by the fact that the house's current roster of inhabitants seemed to have settled into a comfortable, well-established routine. It was though they'd been living together for years, rather than a day. If it hadn't been so comforting and peaceful, Sookie would've found it unsettling. After the chaotic arrivals, she would never have envisioned things quieting down like this. She figured there was still a chance that everyone was still in shock at being home. Once normality set in, maybe fatigue would follow, then they'd all turn on each other…

_Of course, that doesn't explain the quiet domesticity of the house guests…__Maybe Pam's drugging the food? _She thought as she glanced at the woman. Sookie really had no clue.

Aside from breaks to whip up five star meals, Pam had taken to sitting out back at the picnic table. She had her laptop and was reading some documents (scripts?) while basking in the shade. Sookie figured Pam must have a wireless card since she had Internet access. Jase had said he'd used Pam's laptop to email Aunt Linda and MOF.

Jason and Hunter had gotten themselves involved in a "housing rehab" project on the tree house. A fresh coat of paint on one dingy wall had led to another wall which had led to the remaining two, finally to new coats on the exterior trim, etc. She vaguely wondered if they'd build an addition to the tree house to accommodate all the new household members.

Amelia, meanwhile, continued to float on clouds. Thrilled that she was successful in her plan to engineer her own expulsion from school, Ame was refamiliarizing herself with her witchcraft books. Glancing down at her younger sister, who was happily lying on the floor surrounded by books open to pentagram drawings, Sookie shivered. For the millionth time, she wondered how healthy it was to allow her youngest sister to continue her pursuit of this slightly kooky interest. What alternative was there? How exactly does one "stop" Amelia? Finally Sookie shrugged it off.

_She'll have to figure out how to incorporate it into her life, that's all. It's not like she's not sociable. She has friends. She just has unique interests._

Maxine was in the study reading. Sookie knew the woman had made several phone calls to find out about the next bus tour, but she was a little hesitant to ask, as she didn't want Maxine to think she wanted the woman to leave. Truthfully, the older retired woman was the last of the strays she'd vote out of the house.

After checking with Jason, Sookie knew that Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane hadn't yet stopped by. She knew that Aunt Jane was hoping to get a glimpse of the resident celebrity, so maybe Jason tipped them off that Eric wasn't around? She very much wanted to talk to Uncle Mike about Jason and Tara's (and Maxine's?) ideas about selling land. She was hoping Tara would get home soon. She wondered what the heck was taking her so long.

As for her, Sookie figured even if the house were not sold right away, there was still a lot of stuff in storage that needed to be sorted through, possibly sold or tossed. Many generations of Stackhouses had left their stored mementos in the attic. Skeletons in the closet. _Eew_. She hoped not literally. That's all they needed. _Please, no more surprises_. Sookie went upstairs and engaged in the spring-cleaning of a lifetime.

Breaking around three o'clock, Sookie came downstairs to find the house much livelier than when she had gone upstairs. Glancing out the window, she saw Jason and Hunter were still outside but now they had Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane out there with them. She found Amelia and Maxine in the study.

"Hey, ladies. Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane are here. Maxine, they're not really relatives but they're close family friends and neighbors. They're actually JB's parents. Mike is a realtor—like JB. I had wanted to talk to him about all the ideas for the house, but I was hoping Tara would be back by now. Maybe we could talk to him anyway?"

Maxine looked up for her book and smiled at Sookie. "Of course, Sookie," Maxine agreed. "I'd love to talk to him. Anything I can do to help."

"Oh, good!" Sookie was thrilled. "Thank you, Maxine. Ame, you're welcome to come, too." She winked at her younger sister who smiled back.

Just then there was a commotion outside. Sookie glanced out the study window and saw Tara pull Jason's car into the driveway. She watched as Tara and Eric (!) jumped out of the front seats while Hoyt and Long Shadow fell out of the back. Once Hunter saw Long Shadow, the boy ran over to tackle the dog. Sookie found herself riveted to the spectacle of the incredibly handsome 6'4" blond Viking-like god in her driveway watching her two youngest brothers roll around on the ground with their slow-witted dog. Long Shadow just barked and drooled happily, not making a move to get away from the boys' teasing torments.

_We should call the papers. We've got America's Sexiest Man Alive and America's Dumbest Dog._

"Ame! It's Long Shadow! Hoyt's back with Long Shadow!" Hunter cried. Amelia, hearing the barking and her brother's screaming, jumped up from her spot on the floor and ran outside.

Sookie and Maxine went out as well, just as Pam came around from her station at the back of the house. Aunt Jane, Sookie noticed, was practically foaming at the mouth at the sight of Eric Northman. Sookie could barely contain herself from rolling her eyes.

Jason was making the introductions. The three youngest Stackhouses took a reprieve from playing with Long Shadow long enough to greet Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane.

"Oh, look at you kids," Aunt Jane was getting teary. "You're all so big! Amelia! Honey, what'd you do to your hair?"

"Aw, Aunt Jane," Ame was not amused. "Don't remind me! I already regret it. All short and dark. Can't grow back quickly enough for me."

"Oh, Mr. Northman," Aunt Jane's eyes looked slightly dazed.

"Please, Mrs. Du Rone, call me Eric."

"Oh, delighted, but you must call me Jane." Jane Bodehouse Du Rone giggled like a schoolgirl as Eric took her hand.

"Agreed. Mr. Du Rone." Eric turned his attention to Mike.

"Mike, please."

They shook hands and everyone started to move slowly towards the front porch, while they continued with introductions and small talk.

"Oh, you're from New York? That must be different."

"You're a Hollywood manager?"

"I love your show."

"You own a liquor store in town? How WONDERFUL!"

"Real estate? I'm actually thinking of investing in Louisiana…"

The kids, meanwhile, were mumbling under their breath. Amelia scrunched up her features, while Hoyt's face looked perplexed. Glancing away from the adult congregation, Eric noticed.

_Uh oh,_ he thought. _Operation: Tree House Vengeance?_

Hunter piped up at that point. "Hey, Jase, we're gonna take Long Shadow around to the creek."

"All three of you?"

"Yep."

"Okay, don't be gone too long. Make sure you come back to visit with Aunt Jane and Uncle Mike. And dinner," Jason paused and looked at Pam inquiringly. Sookie was incredulous. She was even more so when Pam responded.

"Will be around six thirty." Pam smiled at the kids.

It was Eric's turn to be incredulous. Pam had been completely domesticated. It was like Taming of the Shrew, only instead of a husband Pam had been tamed by what Eric could only describe as a "sudden family immersion." It was damn bizarre and he really didn't know what to make of it. Had he not been so focused on Sookie, maybe he'd have more of an opinion on Pam's strange metamorphosis.

Seeing Amelia take off with the boys and Long Shadow, Sookie made a face.

_So much for Amelia wanting to be treated like an adult._

Speaking of being an adult, it was time to pull up the big girl panties and get this show on the road. Sookie cleared her throat to get everyone's attention.

"Well, I'm gonna suggest we move inside," Sookie started. "I think we have some things to discuss. I know I, for one, have some questions and I'm real curious to hear about Tara's talk with the Town Clerk."

Eric realized it was the return of Barracuda Sookie as everyone wasted no time in ceasing their conversations and turning to make their way into the house. Pam caught Eric's eye and quirked her brow, as if to say _See what you're in for?_ Eric nodded and gestured for Pam to hang back.

Once everyone had gone inside, Eric and Pam remained outside, several yards from the porch steps.

"So, Northman, what are you thinking? I know you too well to think you don't have something brewing under that Viking helmet. So, spill."

_Viking helmet? _Eric looked at her. He shook his 'Viking helmet' and considered his words carefully before speaking.

"I," Eric absently ran his fingers through his hair, "…I find myself at a loss here."

"You? Eric Northman? Please, you don't do lost."

"First times for everything, Pam." He looked at her. "I don't want to upset Sookie—"

"Obviously," Pam smirked. _As in 'the little minx is **obviously** carrying your balls in her handbag_.'

"Yet, I can't help but feel that they're the textbook definition of 'family'. It would be a shame—more than a shame—for them to separate. I can't let that happen knowing I can do something about it."

"Yes, yes. Go on." Pam nodded impatiently. Eric could be so melodramatic sometimes. He'd never win an Oscar if he didn't rein in the over-acting. "So, what do you have planned?"

"I suggested to Jason I section off a portion of the house, make it into an apartment. It could be my home while filming the show."

Pam sucked in a breath. "Eric, seriously? You realize you might never get to pillage her treasure chest with that kind of show of support for Team Jason? It's not exactly a neutral move, you know."

Eric looked at her. _Believe me, I know,_ he thought.

"What kind of an investment would that be? Few hundred thousand? I assume you'd pick up the legal costs?" Pam's business sense was kicking into gear.

"Of course," he replied.

"Hmmm. Might be a good deduction. Anyway... Listen, Eric, that's a great way to solidify your relationship with Jason and the rest of the family, but it's not exactly the best way of getting in with — or into — the Barracuda."

Eric scowled at Pam's coarseness. "Yes, I know this, Pam. But, it makes sense for me. It makes sense for them. I enjoy it here." The duo had started to wander away from the house, towards a creek. "I feel like I've," Eric smiled, "found my perfect foster family. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Pam. I don't see you moving to rent a car and get a hotel room."

Pam raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Touché. I've enjoyed rediscovering my culinary talents. Besides, this Podunk air is good for my hair." She punctuated her comments by smoothing out her hair.

Eric glanced at her with skeptical eyes. "That's it, Pam? You like cooking and good hair days?"

Pam glared at him. "Fine," she huffed. "I like it here. I like them. I wouldn't mind if you had a two or three bedroom spread here. I'd know where I'd be staying when I'm in Northern Louisiana, too."

Eric nodded. It was settled then. Eric and Pam were on Team Jason/Team Stackhouse. Eric would have to infiltrate Team Sookie through other means.

_Well_, he thought, _if she can't get over herself and see that her family belongs together, that they've fought for it and that they've earned it, then she is not the woman I think she is._

But Eric was pretty sure she was that woman.

Eric and Pam slowly made their way back to the house. Although he knew— without question—where his loyalties lie, Eric decided he would not bring up the condo idea today unless Jason did. He hoped to have more time with Sookie before giving her a new reason to hate him.

It wasn't that he was lying to her, he told himself. He was just holding back information for a little while. She'd know everything, in time.

**

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AN: Thank you for reading/rereading****! Rereaders, don't forget the poll on my profile to vote for the funniest character! Pam's still in the lead but Hunter won on a separate poll on my blog. Check out the link on my profile for casting but DON'T LOOK AT THE FASHION LINKS! It's for the "Breakfast with Bill" chapter which is ~10 chapters away. DON'T SPOIL THE SURPRISE FOR YOURSELF! (Unless you're a rereader, in which, have at it.) :D Find me on LiveJournal. Please. Maldiscontent. **


	26. Scheming Teacups

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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Chapter Twenty-Six: Scheming Teacups

The kids took off with Long Shadow following the creek that wrapped to the east, paralleling the road. A cloud of tension hung over the three kids. Hunter, leading the way, walked with a determined gait, periodically swinging a tree branch. Finally arriving at their destination—basically a point deemed "far enough"- the kids stopped and resumed the conversation that had begun while outside the house.

"What're we gonna do about that fucktard, Cal Myers?" Hunter began. "Any ideas? I wanna beat the shit out of him but the sick fuck would probably like it!"

Hoyt thoughtfully looked down at the ground. Amelia shot a quick glance at her two brothers and then turned her focus to the creek. With a breath, she looked up.

"Let's put a spell on him," she suggested.

"Fuckawesome!" Hunter thought his sister's suggestion an excellent one.

"What? A spell? You sure that's a good idea, Ame?" Hoyt was a little unsure.

"Yeah, I'm sure." If there was one thing Amelia did not second-guess herself on, it was her craft. For better or worse.

"'Course, Hoyt. Ame wouldn't have suggested it if she thought it was a dumb idea."

"But what if Sookie finds out?" Hoyt still wasn't sold on this.

"Sookie's not gonna find out." Amelia replied simply. For thirteen, Amelia could evoke the confidence of someone much older.

"Ame, what kind of spell you wanna put on that fucktard?" As far as Hunter was concerned, the decision had been made. Now it was just a matter of the details.

"I'll explain it as we go. But we gotta figure out how to get out to Hotshot. Who do we know that would drive us out there?"

"Maybe Eric?" Hunter suggested.

"Car's gone. Pam's too." Amelia reminded him.

"How about Terry?" Hunter looked over at his brother.

"Terry might do it," Amelia met Hoyt's eyes. "What ya think, Hoyt?"

"Yeah, Terry might do it," Hoyt nodded, uneasily. He really wasn't sure about this plan.

"Call him, Hoyt" Amelia directed. "You're his buddy. Ask him if he can come pick us up, bring us out there for a bit, and then bring us home."

Hoyt really wasn't sure about this idea. For one thing, it involved sneaking around, just after Sookie had hollered at them for doing something similar. Then there was the fact that it seemed like they were using Terry. Not to mention that they had no fucking idea what the hell was up with Ame's 'powers.' But how the heck do you say this to her?

"Uh, Ame?" Hoyt started out tentatively.

"What?"

"How do we…uh… know your powers will work?"

Amelia gave Hoyt a death glare. "Who do you think made it rain last night? There wasn't rain in the forecast, Hoyt." Amelia announced this smugly.

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a thoughtful look. Really, they had no idea whether or not rain had been in the forecast last night. Could Amelia really have made it rain? If she did, that was fucking amazing. And scary as shit. They turned to look at Amelia, who, with her blue-black Elvira hair and straight bangs and intense eyes, certainly, in that moment, looked scary enough to force rain from the sky. Well…

Hunter figured even if Ame's spell on Cal didn't work, the asswipe would probably be scared shitless thinking there was a spell on him. And if it did work, fuckawesome!

Hoyt figured they'd get in trouble if it worked and they'd be in the clear if it didn't. As disloyal as it might've been, he was hoping her spell wouldn't work. He shrugged, pulled out his phone and hit Terry's number. And so began Operation: Tree House Vengeance.

Nearly two hours later, Terry Bellefleur dropped the kids off where he had picked them up, by the creek up a ways from the house. Not wanting to lie (much), the kids told Terry that Cal had broken into their treehouse (true) and that they were gonna go talk to him (true – technically Ame casting her spell involved talking) and that Jase didn't want them going out there (true) because Hotshot was filled with inbred freaks (also true).

Terry wasn't an idiot. He knew those Stackhouse kids were up to something. If he couldn't tell from the "cat that ate the canary" looks on their faces, the death scream from Cal Myers when they were in there with him cinched it. Yep, up to something. But Terry didn't care. He knew they were basically good kids. Terry was only too happy to chauffeur the kids. He thought it was just real real nice having the Stackhouses back.

_A fine family_, he thought.

Once back in Bon Temps, the Stackhouse kids realized they still had some time before dinner. So they decided to walk back to their clandestine meeting spot by the creek.

Truth be told, the year that had passed had been a big one for the three of them. Since they'd last been together as a constant unit, Amelia had turned from 12 to 13.

Simultaneous with her entry into her teens came an interest in boys. And girls. She was one peg closer to being an adult than either of her two younger siblings. So, whereas Amelia had always been a bit on the bossy side—never shying away from broadcasting her ideas and opinions—now she felt it was even more her right to claim the position of "general' of their small troop. Something had been bothering her forever and she finally had her 'troops" to strategize with.

"We gotta do something about Sookie," began Amelia.

"What do you mean?" Hoyt asked.

"I mean we have to figure out how to stop her from marrying Douche Bag."

"What're you talking' 'bout, Ame? Sookie's engaged to Bill." Hoyt was confused.

"Well, they aren't married yet. And we need to make sure that doesn't happen."

Hunter had remained silent, taking it all in. Once he got the drift of where Amelia was coming from, he started to nod his head, agreeing completely.

"Jesus H, Hoyt! Ame's right! Sookie can't marry Douche Bag. If they have kids, the kids'll be half-douche bag." Suddenly, preventing a dilution—or douchelution—of the gene pool was very important to Hunter. Brainstorming, he thought he had an idea.

"Ame, what about your craft? Any spells for that?" Hunt was looking at his sister hopefully.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure I'm practiced enough for this. Cal is such a weak-minded dipshit. The spell I'd been studying was perfect for him. But Bill…Bill is one giant Douche Bag. I don't know if we have the time for me to practice." Amelia looked thoughtful, as she considered the options. "It's gonna take a serious plan to get him out of the way. We may even need help."

"What? Who do you think we can get to help?" asked Hunter.

"Maybe we can find someone to seduce Bill." Amelia suggested doubtfully. Biting carelessly on her lower lip, she very much resembled her eldest sister in that moment.

The three Stackhouses looked at one another. They all had the same thought. That would not be easy. That might even be impossible. Who the fuck would want the Douche Bag aside from their own seemingly crazy sister?

"For fucks sake, Ame, since Helen Keller's dead," Hunter's snigger morphed into a cackle, "I don't know who else we can find who'd be okay spending time with that Douche Bag."

Amelia snickered before responding. "Well, maybe we just need it to look like Bill's cheating. Maybe we just need Sook to see it and think he's cheating on her. Get someone to pretend to seduce him and then 'bye bye Bill.'"

"How the fuck are we gonna get someone to seduce that dickwad? Even if it's just for pretend?" Hunter really did not see that as a possible scenario.

"Hmmm, I'll agree that it's a tough one. Maybe we can find someone to seduce Sookie instead? Then Bill catches them?" Amelia nodded enthusiastically at her two brothers.

"That could work. Who'd we get to do that?" Hunter asked.

"What about Quinn?" Amelia threw out.

Hunter looked at his sister like her hair was on fire. "Naw, I don't want that bald, purple-eyed freak anywhere near me. Last time Sook brought me and Hoyt to a Bon Temps football game, Quinn was sitting a few rows in front of us. I saw him bend over and lick his own leg like it was a fucking chicken bone. Fucking disgusting."

"Ew! Gross! Really?" Amelia looked horrified. Quinn was…just….disgusting! She'd never understood Sookie's attraction to the guy. He was kind of okay-looking, but that… that…was just too gross. "Why'd he do that?"

"Because he's a fucking animal, that's why!" Hunter shook his head in disgust. "I saw he was picking away at this scab on his knee. I'm like watching him, thinking he'll stop, but no. He just keeps picking and picking away at it—like his life fucking depended on gettin' it off. Then when he got it to all come off, he leans over and licks the blood off his knee." Hunter continued.

"Ew…" Amelia felt herself gagging at her brother's vivid description. "Did you tell Sookie?"

"Yeah, and she looked at me like she was thinking about it, like she wasn't sure I was making it up or not. Then she just shrugged like she believed it." Hunter turned to his brother. "Didn't she Hoyt?"

"Yeah." Hoyt had been silent up until now. "She looked at us and then looked away, like she was thinking. Then she just changed the subject so we wouldn't talk about it anymore."

"I gotta say. What the fuck is wrong with Sookie? Tar dated Frank. He was a lot of fun. JB's real nice. But Sook always dates freaks." Amelia sounded absolutely perplexed on this matter.

"I think she's got control issues." A little pride could be detected in Hoyt's voice as he made what he felt was a keen observation.

"Jesus H, Hoyt! Ya think?" Hunter exclaimed, obviously not impressed. "Girl's wound tighter than a Jew at an Al Quaeda pep rally."

Suddenly Amelia was catching flies. To say she was startled by her brother's words would have been an understatement. What the fuck? Where on earth did Hunter get that language from? She wondered. Uh, better ask, she figured.

"Where'd you hear that, Hunt?" Amelia asked.

"Aw, that Felipe," Hunter scowled.

Amelia decided to backburner that issue for the present but made a note to herself to mention to Sookie and Jason that Uncle Felipe is definitely not a good influence on the boys.

"What about Eric dating Sookie?" Hoyt suggested.

Hunter looked at Hoyt with a contemplative gaze. Thinking…thinking…thinking…finally…

"Hoyt, that may just be the best idea you've ever come up with," Hunter nodded in approval. "Ame, what ya think of that?"

Interesting, that's what Amelia was thinking. But there was a problem with that suggestion.

"Eric doesn't really live in Bon Temps." Amelia finally decided. "He's only staying for a little bit, then he's gonna move back to Shreveport and then he'll go back to Hollywood." She shrugged. "But, to make Bill jealous and think that Sook likes him, that's a great idea, Hoyt."

Amelia had an idea of her own to share. "I know someone else who might help us," she said excitedly. "Might."

"Who?" The two boys blurted out simultaneously.

"Pam." Amelia looked at her two brothers to see their reactions.

"Pam likes Bill?" Hoyt asked confusedly.

Ame and Hunter exchanged a look. Sometimes Hoyt could be so dense. "No, Hoyt," Amelia responded. "Pam'll probably hate Bill more than anyone. She'll probably want to bury him alive just as soon say 'hello' but we may be able to get her to pretend."

"Oh." Hoyt nodded.

"What if Pam won't do it? Who else can we get?" Hunter asked.

"Well," Amelia said thoughtfully, "we'd have to find someone else who likes Sookie and would want to save her from marrying the Douche Bag."

"Um," Hunter pondered. "Who likes Sook and would want to help save her from Bill?"

"Sam" Hoyt suggested.

"Sam's a guy you fucktard." Hunter looked wide-eyed at his brother.

"Shut up, Hunt. You've been riding me all fucking day. Quit it. Ame just said who liked Sook," Hoyt defended himself. "And all I'm saying is Sam likes her."

"Yeah and Sam likes girls. We can't get Sam to go after Bill. People don't just go gay. It's in your blood. Either you're born gay or not. Or you're like Ame." Hunter shrugged and looked at his sister.

"Besides," Hoyt pointed out, "Sam likes Sookie. Maybe he would want to date Sookie."

Amelia, only half listening to her brothers' conversation, was trying to weigh the possibility of Sam. Everyone was always saying that she and Sook were a lot alike and while Amelia liked Sam, she couldn't imagine dating someone like him—and it wasn't just the penis thing. She could be persuaded to the dark side for the right XY. No, she could more easily envision having Sam as a pet, maybe a dog— loyal, housebroken, and always underfoot—than a boyfriend. Yeah. No challenge. Sook needed someone to butt heads with. She was too used to being a controlling pain in the ass. A relationship that didn't allow her an opportunity to put her most high-handed domineering face forward would just not be fulfilling. Sam might as well be a woman he's such a sissy, always all emo pussyfooting. That's why Sook never dated him. She's too bossy. He's too wimpy. Ame sighed. She was finally shaken from her internal dialogue when she heard her name called.

"Ame, you got any ideas?" Hunter and Hoyt both looked so worried at that point. Amelia could barely stifle a snicker.

"You two are such babies. I forget that sometimes."

"Hey, fuckall, Ame," Hunter was outraged. "Just because you busted out your boobs to your principal doesn't make you all grown-up."

"Yeah, Ame," Hoyt agreed.

"Okay, so this is what we're gonna do…" Amelia proceeded to tell them what they were going to do.

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AN: Thank you****! Just so you know, things are going to get a little crazy. Rereaders, don't forget the Funniest Character poll on my FF profile! Pam's still in the lead but Hunter won on a separate poll on my blog. New readers, yes, this is why Hunter comes in second. BTW, we're hitting the storylines that were most definitely NOT included in the original Elizabeth Cadell book. I told you ROTSS is like 3X as long as the original book. **

**If you want more of the Miniature Stackhouses, let me know! Sequel's in the works! **

**:D**


	27. The House Dilemma

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: The House Dilemma

Sookie, Tara, and Aunt Jane were in the kitchen preparing sweet tea and refreshments when Eric and Pam rejoined the rest of the group. Glancing around the living room, Eric conducted a mental inventory.

Jason and Maxine were sitting at the card table, looking at a stack of papers. Eric figured they were looking at the materials Tara picked up from Town Clerk.

Jason, Eric noted, looked determined, yet slightly worried. Despite years in the military, he was ill-at-ease with the idea of going head-to-head with his strong-willed sister.

Maxine was perusing the papers, making a careful study of them, nodding occasionally to herself.

Mike was standing over the table peering down at the forms, intermittently grabbing something to look at and posing questions to Jason and Maxine.

Eric made himself comfortable on one of the two couches and Pam soon joined him.

After a few minutes, Tara came in carrying a tray of sweet tea and some glasses, with Jane close behind with more glasses and small plates. Placing the pitcher and glasses on the wet bar, Tara began to pour them all drinks, while Jane handed them out. Before long, everyone had a drink in hand and was comfortably seated.

The tension in the room was palpable when Sookie finally came in carrying a tray of crudités several minutes later. It wasn't lost on her that everyone's battle-ready eyes were focused on her. Again she wondered how had this become an all out war. And how had it become "Everyone—including Hollywood— versus Sookie"?

"Hey, y'all, see you got your drinks. Here's some cheese and crackers and some fruit." With that Sookie set the tray down on the coffee table. She turned on her heel and went to pour herself a glass of sweet tea.

Waiting for everyone to help themselves to some snacks, Sookie surveyed the room. While she was both surprised and annoyed to find Eric and Pam sitting in at their family meeting, she couldn't find it in her just then to tell them to leave. Everyone was already on edge with her as it was, if she blew up at the houseguests—no matter how intrusive she thought their presence —it would only raise people's hackles more.

_Damn Southern hospitality_, she thought.

Mike, Tara, Maxine and Jason, Sookie saw, were seated around the card table with the documents Tara picked up from Holly at Town Hall. Her eyes falling on the sizable stack of papers, Sookie's eyes widened. More than an inch thick, it sure was a lot of info to take in.

_No wonder no one knows anything about town planning and zoning laws, _Sookie thought, _who has the friggin time? _

Aunt Jane was sitting on one of the couches making small talk with Pam. They seemed to be trading recipes. Sookie shook her head. What the hell?

Finally, she turned her gaze to Eric Northman, who was pointedly staring at her, smiling. He raised his glass to her in salutation and took a sip of sweet tea. She wanted nothing more than to take her own glass of sweet tea and dump it over his cocky grin. She tried to convey this to him non-verbally with her eyes and seemed to be successful as Eric nodded imperceptibly and his grin widened into a toothy smile.

_Fucking cocky bastard_, Sookie thought.

"Uh, I'm sure everyone's anxious to get started. I know I am. So…maybe we'll start with hearing from Tara what the options are?"

Tara nodded. A bright girl, she was a little nervous to be the center of attention, especially under Sookie's scrutiny. Shaking off her fears, she stood up.

"Okay," she smiled to help get over her nerves, "well, as you-all may or may not know, Maxine was able to give us some ideas on how we could use the extra acres to raise some money to help with the costs of maintaining the house.

"And, well, today I went and spoke with Holly Cleary, the Town Clerk, and she explained a few things about the possibilities and we have a couple of options."

Sookie listened intently. Since she read about real estate trends for work, what she was hearing wasn't altogether unfamiliar. It was, however, very odd hearing about it in the context of her family's home.

Apparently, under the current zoning, they couldn't subdivide the property to build more houses because the land they owned was such an odd, triangular shape and they didn't have enough land fronting on Hummingbird Lane for a second driveway. They could build another house on the land—as part of the family "compound"- but it would be limited to family, as the property would have to be on the same deed.

Because what they could do with the land was limited, there was little development pressure on the land. Since it was near impossible that they could develop the property, the Shreveport Conservation Society would be unlikely to pay them anything not to develop it. They could try to buy land fronting the road but even then the driveway would be an awkward zigzag coming up close to the cemetery.

"Unless you're a vampire," Tara joked, "no one would want that for their ride home every night."

One possible option they had was to sell land to the cemetery. But, the population of Bon Temps wasn't very big. And the cemetery already was pretty big. According to reports completed a couple of years before, shy of an influx of hundreds of residents in a short time—the cemetery had all the land it needed for interments for the next 40 or so years.

Sookie forced herself to continue to pay attention.

_Geez, poor Maxine. This is what she did for all those years? No wonder she's a borderline alcoholic,_ Sookie thought.

Mike was nodding, while Jason looked stone-faced. Eric and Pam were listening intently. Poor Aunt Jane seemed bored out of her mind.

"Okay. So we seemed to hit a lot of dead-ends," Tara continued, "focusing on the land. If we look at the house, we have some more options.

"We could—legally—turn the house into a Bed and Breakfast and have five guest rooms. We have ten bedrooms. We could fix the attic and have a suite there, add a bathroom. Add another bathroom to the second floor. But we'd have to make sure we do everything right to serve food on premises and all that.

"Or, we could put in a request for a rezoning. If we had a commercial designation, we could subdivide the house into up to four apartments. But we might have to clear off some of the woods to make room for parked cars.

"Anyway," Tara paused and looked around, "I think that about covers everything."

"Thanks, Tara," Sookie gave her sister a smile, "you gave us a lot to think about. I guess we need to figure out what we think is do-able. Jason?" Sookie quirked an eyebrow at her brother.

Jason let out a breath and met Eric's eye briefly. "Well, I think we'll need to think about this and talk about the possible options. Maybe even get some construction estimates on what we'd need to do. Uncle Mike?"

"Yeah, I'd say that would be the logical next step. The legal costs and Town fees—we can guesstimate those pretty easily with Holly's help—"

Jason interrupted Mike. "Yeah, Tara, you thank Holly for us? We owe her anything?" Jason was smiling. He figured he knew the answer to this already.

"You bet, Jason Stackhouse. You offered and she took you up on it. What you think? Holly's still sweet on you. You owe her dinner, tomcat." Tara laughed, while Jason, grinning, nodded.

"Fair enough," Jason said. "Sorry, Uncle Mike."

"No problem, Jason," Uncle Mike threw Jason a knowing glance. "As I was saying, we can get a handle on those costs easily enough. Now, if you're gonna divide the house into apartments or just renovate and add bathrooms, big difference in cost. I'd recommend you put together a few schematics of the possibilities and then get a few contractors in here to give estimates. I'd recommend, Pumphrey Builders, Holliday Construction, and Herveaux Contractors—"

Sookie, who had been peering contemplatively into her glass of sweet tea, suddenly jerked her head up at her uncle's words.

"Herveaux Contractors? I thought they went out of business?" she asked.

"No, not at all. Alcide took over the business when his daddy died," Uncle Mike seemed slightly perplexed as to why Sookie seemed a bit put out by his suggestion of Herveaux Contractors. Until Aunt Jane put two and two together.

"Oh, honey," Jane went on artlessly. "You and Alcide went together for a while! Lord, I remember that now. Wow, that was quite a while back, wasn't it?"

Sookie, grimacing, just nodded. She fell silent.

Eric was very interested in this little newsflash. He wasn't surprised that Sookie had an ex-boyfriend—she was gorgeous, the town of Bon Temps, indeed, all of northern Louisiana, should be riddled with her castoffs—but he _was_ taken aback by her reaction.

"Now, one thing I want to point out. And I think Maxine already mentioned this; if you do a bed and breakfast, you're depending on tourists coming to visit, you need to advertise, make brochures, run a business, feed people," Mike raised his brow, "and mind your mouth. If you're just renting or selling a part of the house to someone else to live in—you can make sure they have a separate entrance and buffer yourselves off by the layout. You know. Place closets and halls alongside the interior walls, so you're not right on top of each other."

Eric had been watching Sookie. Indeed, he hadn't taken his eyes from her since he'd observed her strong reaction to hearing her ex's name mentioned. Suddenly, she raised her head, meeting his eyes just as Uncle Mike said that part about not being "right on top of each other." Eric smiled at her, prompting a lovely pink shade to travel along her cheeks. She turned away from him focusing once more on her uncle.

It was decided that the resident Stackhouses—including the three youngest—would consider all the options and put together some ideas of what rendition of the renovated house might work.

At Eric's offer to provide his input, as "architecture" was "a hobby," Sookie shot him such a scowl, he'd be definitely dead had she been armed in that moment. At Pam's offer "me too, I want to help"—while bestowing a charming smile and wink directly at Sookie —Sookie was ready to kill.

After saying goodbye to Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane, Sookie excused herself to lie down. She quite suddenly had an insufferable headache: named Eric Northman. As she went upstairs to lock herself away in the peaceful confines of her old bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder at the strange turn her life had taken and the person she gave credit for somehow commandeering the steering wheel: Eric Northman.

**

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AN: Thank you****! Still Saturday. This was going on while the kids were running around Hotshot. I'm not sure any of these older Stackhouses should get custody of the kids. The kids never came back and no one seemed to notice. I guess they were in 'urban planning' coma. [Yes, I'm an urban planner. Sh. It's a secret.]**

**:D**


	28. And Then There Are Favors

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight: And Then There Are Favors **

Pam's reaction to Amelia's text message was mixed. On the one hand she thought, _I'm so glad I never had any of those things_. On the other, she thought _Ooh, fun_. The text sent via Hoyt's cell phone, while brief, had not failed to set off some alarms.

**Plz meet me, H&H by the creek that winds road at 545. Don't tell! Plz! Need ur help! Ame**

As distasteful as the idea of "helping" was, Pam knew she couldn't just ignore the text. She had to at least go and find out what it was the Teacup Stackhouses wanted from her.

So here she was, walking along the side of the road, in her five-inch Manolo Blahniks. Suddenly, from behind some trees to her right, Pam heard something that sounded like a cross between a birdcall and the clucking sound Russell Edgington's husband Talbot made whenever someone walked onto their tiled floors without removing their shoes.

Whoop. Whoop.

Then, despite the fact that it was damn nearly inaudible, she heard a whisper.

"Pam. Pam."

Pam made a face. "All right, mini Stackhouses, I know you're here. You're not fooling anyone." _Although they could probably give Russell one hell of a scare if he were here_, she thought. Pam paused, waiting. No one moved. Sighing she figured she needed to reassure them. "Don't worry. I wasn't followed. Show yourselves already or I'm going back to the house."

One by one Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter came out from the wooded area that separated the road from the creek. Hands on hips, Pam looked them over. Whatever the little tykes had been up to, they weren't any worse for the wear. "So?" Pam waved her hand, encouraging them to speak. "Why did I just traipse through the woods wearing my favorite pumps?"

"Pam, we need your help!" Amelia decided to try to get Pam's buy-in before she actually explained the plan. Something told her Pam wouldn't be thrilled with their idea. "It's really really important. Will you help us?"

Pam arched an eyebrow and slowly glanced at the trio, one by one. Finally she spoke. "Can't say. It depends."

Amelia knew it wouldn't be easy. She was nearly 100 percent positive Pam would agree to help but ...in case she didn't?... If Pam didn't agree to help, then they…well, she was their best hope.

"It's not a big deal, Pam," Amelia told her. "You might even enjoy it."

"Amelia," replied Pam, her voice serious, "you'd best let me be the judge of that. My tastes are quite eclectic. Besides, you are pointedly trying to get me to agree to help you without telling me what it is I'm agreeing to. Now, as I have, in fact, used that tactic many, many times myself, I am not going to fall for it. So it's best that you just come clean." Wide-eyed, Pam again looked at each of the children in turn.

Dammit. "Well, it's just a little favor." Amelia knew she was wheedling, but she also knew it would only be harder to get Pam to agree once the woman knew what it was they wanted her to do.

A 'little' favor? And that tone. If there was one thing Pam couldn't stand, it was the sound of other people whining. It was all she could do just to wrestle Eric's big boy pants on him each day.

"Amelia, there is no such thing as a 'little' favor. If it was really so inconsequential, then the benefactor would've already performed the task, unasked. And so we are left with _favors_. And then there are _FAVORS_. So why don't you Teacup Stackhouses just tell me what it is you want from me. If it's something I think I might enjoy, I'll consider it. And if it's not, well maybe I'll make you creme brûlée for dessert," she paused and looked at them. "Am I making myself clear?"

Amelia exchanged a glance with her brothers. Pam was no pushover. "We want your help breaking up Sookie and the Douche Bag."

_Sookie and the Douche Bag_. _Hm_, thought Pam, _another perfect vehicle for Hasselhoff. As for the idea of breaking up the minx and the unseen fiancé-cum-douche bag…interesting. _

"Go on. I'm listening. What's your plan?

"Well, we thought maybe you could seduce him?" Amelia said this tentatively. She had a feeling this would qualify as a _FAVOR_ as opposed to just a _favor_.

With her porcelain complexion, Pam's face would've gone white had it not already been there. No. This would not do.

"Amelia, boys, aside from the obvious fact, that I am not overly fond of men," understatement really—Eric's on-again-off-again bout with pussyness may very well have been the glue that held their friendship together —"Bill, as you have repeatedly pointed out, is a douche bag. Now, I realize you Teacups likely don't travel much unless you're on a bus or hitching a ride and you probably have never held down a job, but I work in this place called Hollywood. Hollywood is home to many, many douche bags. In fact, I don't know this for certain but I suspect most of the douche bags in the country are located primarily on Wall Street, in Washington DC and in Hollywood.

"Anyway, I find myself working with douche bags quite a lot. Some, like Eric, I may encounter early enough when there is still a chance I may have a positive influence on them so that —over time—they are less of a douche bag than they would have been without my influence. I wish I could do more in this vein, but I am only one woman. And there are many many _many_ douche bags.

"That being said, why would I want to go out of my way to find another douche bag—one that does not even pose some kind of work-related financial benefit to me — and spend time with him, much less," Pam scrunched up her nose in distaste, like she'd just sunk one of her Manolo Blahniks into dog poo, "seduce him?"

Done with her verbal dissertation on douche bags, Pam leveled a steady gaze on each of the Teacups. Amelia looked crushed. Hunter looked disappointed. Hoyt looked about ready to cry.

_Fuck_, thought Pam as she rolled her eyes.

As much as she really couldn't stomach the idea of engaging in even pretend seduction of someone steadfastly nicknamed Douche Bag, Pam did feel a sense of loyalty to the children. On top of that, she quite enjoyed the 'pussy effect' Sookie had on Eric. It might be fun to actually get this fiancé out of the way, and pave the way for Eric. If he could only stop being such a pussy long enough to get something going with the little minx. Pam came to a quick compromise.

"Tell you what. I won't promise to seduce him. But I will agree to pay him a 'little extra special attention' when he gets here. How is that?"

"Oh, Pam! Thank you! Thank you!" Amelia threw her arms around Pam's neck in a death grip hug. "Thank you! I knew we could count on you!"

"Thanks Pam," said Hoyt.

"You're alright," acknowledged Hunter.

Caught up in Amelia's hug, Pam found herself moved. Ick. Silently telling herself to grow a pair, she allowed herself five seconds to return the girl's hug before she gently extricated herself from Amelia's grasp.

"Yes, yes, Amelia. Okay. So I'll pay the Douche Bag a 'little extra special attention' when he gets here. But you need to come up with another plan. You Teacups need a Plan B."

"Yeah... We kind of have one. Or two."

Pam's eyebrow shot up in surprise. _She really is a lot like me_, she thought. "May I ask what or whom it involves?"

Amelia looked at Hoyt and then Hunter. A silent exchange and then Hunter shrugged. "May as well tell her." Hoyt nodded in agreement.

"Okay, so the second part of this is we want to encourage Sookie's old boss— he's always been sweet on her— to stop being such a wuss and tell her he's got feelings for her. He's nice enough— kind of a girl— but he's not as bad as Douche Bag."

Pam was impressed. The Teacup Stackhouses seemed to have a gift for thinking outside the box. Pam smiled. And another potential suitor hanging around Sookie — in addition to Douche Bag Bill— would only further pussify Eric. Pam's smile widened.

"Let me know if you need any help on that one too. I may have a little time on my hands."

"Really?"

_I'll make time_, Pam thought. "Yes, really. How are you planning on 'encouraging' him?"

"We're gonna swipe Sook's cell phone and send him a text message to stop by the house for a visit. And that she missed him."

Pam nodded. "Anything more?"

Amelia let out a breath. "Yes, one more. Part three is we want to ask Eric to flirt with Sookie when Bill gets here. You think he'll do it?"

Pam was suddenly very _very_ happy. This Stackhouse Staycation just kept getting better and better. She knew Eric was dying to make a play for the little minx but he was acting out his own little one-man morality play, battling some ridiculous notion that it was wrong to hit on an engaged girl who lived with five siblings, and was the guardian to three pre-teens. He seemed to believe there was a need to defer to propriety and adhere to some kind of stupid social custom.

Honestly, if she didn't know any better, Pam could almost believe the rumors about Eric being gay. To allow himself to be cockblocked by something like a girl's family was just absurd.

Fine, the girl was engaged –to someone nicknamed Douche Bag.

As for the fact that Eric was a guest in the girl's home; well, Pam personally couldn't think of a better way to repay hospitality.

As for Eric's hesitance to plunder Sookie with her younger siblings nearby, the Teacups were not just nonchalant about the idea of Eric pursuing their sister, but they were actually actively pimping her out to him!

Pussy or not, Pam couldn't imagine even Eric refusing if it were the Teacups themselves saying 'come and get it.'

_Hmmm_, smiled Pam, _who knew Teacups could be so much fun?_

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**AN: ****Still Saturday. Almost dinnertime. I guess Pam left Maxine watching the stove while she went out for a 'breath of fresh air.' For those of you waiting for Bill's arrival. Soon. It's coming up "soon". **

**Thanks for reading. Special thanks to the reviewers. I know this is reposting but some of these chapters (like this one) have actually been completely rewritten. Reviews are a sweet little inspiration to continue. **

**I know some of you have been checking my blog. Please don't read the tabloid pages until it's time for them! **

**:D**


	29. Jason the Disciplinarian

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or kind of twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jason the Disciplinarian **

So busy were the elder Stackhouses with their working visit with the Du Rones, they were slow to realize that the younger three had not, in fact, made it back to the house in time to visit with Mike and Jane.

Perturbed by the fact that they failed to heed his request, Jason decided that they'd be grounded, no matter what their story was. He was the head of the household now. They needed to respond to him and not flout his authority. He tried to reach Hoyt on his cell, but there was no answer.

_Goddamn ATT,_ Jason sighed.

They finally showed up a quarter after six o'clock—at least they made it in time for dinner, Jason thought ruefully—looking none the worse for the wear. Long Shadow made a barking entrance but the kids were too quiet. Much too quiet. Usually they were loud and raucous. They just seemed guilty. They'd definitely been up to something. If they didn't come clean on their own, he'd have to get it out of them. He'd better not let it slide. He didn't want Sook to realize it and make them come clean. He really needed to establish himself as the one in charge. For all their sakes. If Sookie didn't think he could handle the kids—that they wouldn't respond to him as a disciplinarian—then that was all the more fuel to fight the keeping the house idea. She'd suggest the idea of a new school for Ame, maybe one for Hoyt and she might take Hunter back with her to Dallas. Jason smirked. He knew the boys didn't care much for Bill. Threatening that they might have to live with Bill if they didn't behave might very well be enough of a motivator, but he didn't think it fair to use Bill in that way. The man was set to marry his sister and become his brother-in-law, after all.

Jason decided to meet them out in front of the house. He'd prefer to have this out with them without Sookie nearby.

"Hey, guys, Ame," Jason greeted them as he stepped out onto the porch, shutting the front door behind him.

Smart enough to realize they were up shits creek, the three of them stopped at the bottom of the porch Shadow ran around to the back of the house, chasing a bird's shadow on the ground.

"Hi, Jase." This from Hoyt.

"Hey Jase." This from Hunter.

"Hey." This from Amelia.

"I told you three to be back well before this. Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane were here to visit you too and youmissed them."

The kids exchanged slightly guilty looks. There was also a silent communication to figure out who of the three of them would handle this. Hoyt seemed to be the designated spokesperson.

"Jase, you told us to be back for dinner. We figured that was the time you wanted us back. Sorry we didn'tvisit more with Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane. We forgot that you wanted us earlier. All we remembered was Pam saying dinner was at six thirty."

Damn if that didn't sound plausible. _Fuck. _

"Well, I guess," backpedaling already, Jason Corbett Stackhouse, not good, "I can understand that. Easy to mishear. You three were gone all afternoon. It was pretty quiet here. Where'd you head off to?"

Again with the silent communication.

"Truth, I need the truth from you three," Jason looked at each of them in turn. "Seriously, if this staying here is going to work, we—and by that I mean, you three, me, and Tara—need to work together. You three are older now. I know Sookie pretty much raised you and you were used to listening to her—or not. But now, I need you to listen to me and Tara. Like we're your parents. Or it ain't gonna work. Got me?"

Amelia looked guilty. Hoyt seemed on the verge of tears, while Hunter's mouth kept opening and Hunter glanced at Hoyt and Amelia and burst out with—

"We got a lift to Hotshot! I told 'em about that friggin a-hole Cal Myers breaking into the tree house and graffitiing it all up. We decided to teach him a lesson, not to mess with us ever again. Jase, we had , he'd do it again. That kid's an animal. Those Hotshot kids are crazy, always runnin' in packs. Wecouldn't let him get away with it. Like a pride thing."

Jason let out a breath. He'd actually figured it would have something to do with Cal Myers. He may nothave seen much of his siblings in the past four years, but he'd pretty much got them pegged. He hoped he wouldn't have to deal with Cal's stepdad, Cal Norris. Dude was strange.

"Okay, so who'd you get a ride with?"

"Uh, we used Hoyt's cell to call Terry and he picked us up and brought us out there."

At least they weren't out and out hitching rides with strangers. Terry could be trusted. To a point. Not enough to assert good behavior on a bunch of revenge-driven kids. But he could be trusted to deliver them safely to execute their plans for vengeance. "How'd you get back?"

"Terry waited for us and brought us back," Hoyt answered.

"Listen. It's good that you didn't hitch a ride with a stranger. I take it that when you first called Terry you knew he'd offer to take you out there and wait to bring you back?"

Nods all around.

"Yeah," Jason continued, "because after Sookie lit into the three of you the other night, I know you couldn't possibly be so dumb as to think you'd get away with pulling the riding-with-strangers thing again. 'Cause if you do that, you don't have to wait for Sookie to put you all in sleep-away schools. I'll do it myself to teach you some good sense. Get me?"

"Yes, sir," Hoyt responded. Amelia and Hunter nodded.

"So, now that you got that off your chest, what the hell did you do to Cal?"

Amelia cleared her throat. "I, uh, put a spell on him."

Jason's eyes widened to saucers. _Oh, fuck. _"Ame, you telling me you brewed up some of your witchcraft and you put a spell on him?"

"Yep," she looked away towards the cemetery and then turned to meet her older brother's eyes.

"Well," Jason ran his fingers through his hair, "that's just great." Jason didn't really believe his sister could perform the dark arts, but he knew she did believe and the younger boys probably believed. Chances are Cal believed and they'd be hearing from Cal's parents soon enough. "What was the spell, Ame?"

"That he'd take on his true form at the next full moon," she replied seriously.

"Ah," Jase shook his head, "better and better. What would that be? His true form?"

"Well, Jase, that's not how the spell works. I don't tell him what the form is. He'll just take on his true form, come the next full moon." She started to giggle. "Hunt's got a theory."

"Oh, Jase, that Cal's nothing but a big pussy!" Hunter deadpanned. "He'll be turning into one soon enough, and everyone'll know. Thanks Ame!" Hunter high-fived his sister.

Jason knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop the snicker when he heard Hunter's theory. Hoyt snorted, while Hunter's features remained expressionless. Not quite though. Jason could detect a hint of amusement. This was not good.

"Hunter, Hoyt, Amelia," Jason let out a breath, "you three are going to have to apologize to Cal."

"No, Jase!" Hunter cried. "Jase, he's a jerk. He messed up the tree house. He broke in and messed it up. He's a criminal!"

"No way!" This from Amelia.

"Uh, well, it was pretty fucked up what he did." This from Hoyt.

"Listen," _think Stackhouse_, "you suspect that he's the one who did it, but you don't actually have proof. Do you?" He looked pointedly at each of them. They shook their heads. "Okay, so, it's your word against his but there's no proof. Right?"

"Right," this from Hunter. "So, now, what you did today," Jase realized how hard out-talking his younger siblings was, "you put this hex—"

"Spell, not a hex," Amelia corrected.

"Yeah, this spell on him, and you did it at his house. Was his mother there? Anyone?"

Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter exchanged looks. Finally Hunter answered. "Yeah, that no-good bitch of a sister of his, Tanya, was around the house. She ignored us though. She probably knows what a little douche he is. She'll probably laugh herself silly first time he goes 'meow,' and goes to town licking himself." Hunter cracked up, with Hoyt and Amelia following suit.

"No, Hunt," Jason shook his head. "Listen, you three got to apologize to Cal. Amelia you got to tell them you were playing with him and that you're not really a witch—"

"Jason! That's not fair!" Furious, Amelia's eyes were blazing.

_Jesus H. Christ, she'd never looked more like Sookie, even with the goth hair_, Jason thought. "Ame," _play it hard, Stackhouse_. "You want to live in Bon Temps or we find you another school to go to? If I can't get you to agree to this, then there's really no choice. You get that?"

Amelia looked on the verge of tears.

"Ame, I'm sorry. Really. This has nothing to do with your skills," in fact, should he make her rescind the spell, just in case? What the fuck? Did he really just think that? What the hell is he getting himself into with this? It's one thing to take care of three kids, but his siblings were borderline whack jobs. Maybe reverse psychology? "Seriously, Ame, I need you to reverse the spell. We need to not use your skills…uh…for this sort of thing. We should…save it…you know? For when it's really needed. This little prick, Cal, well, it's a waste of your power. All we got to do is let his folks know what he's been up and tell him if he does it again, we're gonna get Sheriff Dearborn involved and press charges."

"But, Jase, how're we gonna catch him?" This from Hunter.

"Well," Jase thought for a minute. "How about we install a security camera pointed at the tree house?" Never mind, there's no security on the house, which is rarely locked when the place is occupied, but yeah, let's put a super motion detector security camera on a tree house. Lost in his train of thought, Jason failed to realize momentarily that his words had actually shut them all up. He glanced at the three kids. "Well? What ya say?"

"Good idea," Amelia replied first. "Okay. I agree. No spells." She seemed to be placated on the rescinding the spell thing. Jason made a mental note to talk to Sook about the witchcraft thing.

"Jase, yeah, that's a cool idea," Hoyt responded thoughtfully. "Surprised I didn't think of that. Felipe installed some cameras at Aunt Linda's. He told us not to tell her. I think one's in her bathroom."

Jesus. Ew. Hoyt did not just tell him that Aunt Linda's baby-daddy installed hidden cameras in the bathroom, did he? Those boys are NOT going back to live with that pervert. Christ. Jason made another mental note to talk to Sookie. Maybe they should be looking to get custody of Baby Hadley while they're at it. Fucking disgusting pervert.

"Okay, Jase," Hunter looked out towards the cemetery. Kid could be a little creepy when he got that far-off look. "We'll apologize. Ame'll take back the spell. But we tell him not to ever set foot in the tree house again. We set up the camera—but we gotta do it soon! Like now! And," he shook his head, "if he does it again and somehow we don't get him in trouble with the Sheriff, then Ame casts the spell. Deal?"

"Hunter, I'm not going to agree to that," Jason gave his youngest brother his most stern look. "I'll agree that if he does it again and we don't get him in trouble with the Sheriff, we'll talk again and come up with something else. I promise we won't let it go. Agreed?"

"Yep," Hunter nodded.

"All right. You guys hungry?"

"Yeah!" All three of them clamored.

"Well, that's good then. Dinner's up soon. But someone's got to go get that slow-witted dog. He's probably out back being outfoxed by a snail."

The three kids ran around to the back of the house calling for Long Shadow. Jason sat on the front steps for a few more minutes, readying himself to go back in the house. He needed his 'game face' back before going inside and facing Sookie.

He wondered how people did it. How did they manage to be parents and stay one step ahead of their kids? Somehow Sook had it down. She knew never to trust the three of them. And she somehow made 'em slightly afraid of her. Sure, it didn't make much of a difference, but every bit helped. Even with Tara, he felt that they were outnumbered and outwitted by the kids. He found his mind wandering back to the earlier discussion about keeping the house.

_Well, its good Eric'll be around part of the time. Maybe he can get Pam out here too. She's good with Amelia. Maybe Maxine'll decide to move down here. Weather's a helluva lot better here than New York. And the fuckin' politics up there makes Louisiana seem wholesome. Yeah,_ he thought, _maybe with the five of us, we stand a chance of reining in the kids. _

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**AN: Still Saturday. Nearing the end. Sort of. LOL. Anyway, how'd you think Jason did with disciplining the kids? Remember, its new to him. He'll likely get better at it.**


	30. Lucy, I'm Home!

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or twisted, it's my influence. Just to reiterate so that Ms. Cadell does not roll over in her grave; everything related to Felipe and Linda is mine.**

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**Chapter Thirty: Lucy, I'm Home!**

A couple of hours later, most of the Stackhouses—both official and unofficial—were seated comfortably in the living room. The only Stackhouse missing from the cozy group was Tara who had been spirited away by JB for an after-dinner walk.

Consistent with all the previous Pam meals, dinner had been amazing. Sookie didn't consider herself a gourmet by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd learned a thing here and there. Suspicious over the woman's seemingly effortless ability to craft four star meals from random ingredients, Sookie was beginning to suspect that Pam had attended culinary school.

Her legs curled up under her, a magazine on her lap, Sookie sat comfortably on the old recliner. After dwelling on it for the better part of the morning, the fact that Bill had never arrived and had never called to say anything more about his imminent arrival fell off her radar. She decided she wasn't going to chase him. He'd call. Whenever he was ready, he'd call and that was fine. She had plenty of things—obviously—to keep her busy.

Out of the blue she heard Pam's voice. "What's the story with that fiancé of yours? Will he be joining us?"

Perplexed as to why Pam would be interested in Bill's plans, Sookie made a face. "Yeah, he's coming up. Possibly tonight but I'd say more likely tomorrow."

"Hmmm. In time for breakfast?" Pam asked.

"I don't know, Pam." Frustrated with what she regarded as Pam's nosiness, Sookie's tone was less than gracious.

Pam, a slight smirk ghosting her lips, nodded before exchanging a look with Maxine.

Pam had not changed her mind regarding Sookie. She thought the girl was a controlling, cantankerous hothead. But, Pam still maintained that Sookie was absolutely perfect for Eric. Despite the girl's ill temper—or possibly because of it? Hmmm. Whatever. Pam's mind was made up on the matter: On some metaphysical level, Eric deserved Sookie.

As Pam had spent so much time with Maxine over the past 24 hours, she had shared her opinion with the older woman. Maxine had—at first—staunchly disagreed; she felt Sookie Stackhouse was far too serious for the good-natured and boisterous Eric Northman. Pam, however, was nothing if not persistent in turning people around to her viewpoints and Maxine soon saw Sookie as Pam painted her: a girl who'd just had too much responsibility thrust upon her at a young age. Permitted to let loose and drop some of her inhibitions, Pam was certain Sookie would not disappoint.

In the meantime, while Sookie tried to focus on her magazine, thoughts kept popping in her head. Ah-ha! Maxine!

"Hey, Maxine. How'd it go with the phone calls? Do you have a plan yet?"

"Oh, Sookie, as I was telling Pam," Maxine nodded at Pam. "That tour that I signed up for—the riverboat and plantation tour—well, I've missed two days of it now. It was only six days to begin with. Anyway, it was fully booked and when they realized I wasn't there, they actually had some local people waiting stand-by. So I've lost my spot, but the good thing is they'll refund the costs, minus some fees. Or I could just rebook for another tour."

"Oh, Maxine!" Was this a good thing? A bad thing? "Well, I guess that's good, then. That you're not out all the money. When can you reschedule? Do they have something this week?"

"Oh, no," Maxine shook her head. "They do this tour once a year. They have other ones, but this was the one I wanted to do. They have a 'Haunted Louisiana' tour, but I find that kind of thing gruesome. I tend to steer clear of ghoulish stuff. Oh, except, your show, of course, Eric!" Maxine nodded to Eric. "I'm a big fan of 'Over My Dead Body.' Eric, I have to tell you, in character, you totally remind me of Desi Arnaz!" Maxine nodded animatedly.

Sookie was seconds from retching at Maxine's fawning over Eric; reading Sookie's disgust, Pam could barely contain her glee.

"Thank you, Maxine," Eric replied from where he sat at the card table playing Scrabble with the boys and Jason. "I'm actually a big fan of Desi. That's what drew me to the series," he said with a big grin.

"Oh!" Maxine gushed a little. "That's so interesting! I would've figured you did the show because vampires are so popular nowadays."

"No," Pam shook her head. "Eric is quite steadfast in his insistence on not pursuing anything that might have commercial success. I keep telling him his time as a leading actor is limited—wrinkles are already appearing because of his gallivanting naked as a child in Sweden. I tell him he needs to make a couple of blockbusters, but he insists on making these military films that attract only frustrated housewives and gay men, which is not exactly the definition of widespread appeal—"

"Pam," interrupted Eric. "I don't think everyone needs to hear your sage film industry advice, do you?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Yes, Master," she said sarcastically bending slightly in a bow.

Maxine, looking uncomfortable, shot a glance at Pam, who just smirked. Sookie snorted, while Jason maintained a neutral expression.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Uncle Felipe says you're gay."

"What?" Incredulous, Eric looked at the boy.

"Yep," Hoyt nodded agreeing with his younger brother. "He also calls you a bone smuggler."

Pam, arching a brow, turned her gaze to Eric. "See, Eric? Your plan is working."

"Enough, Pam."

Sookie, meanwhile, was staring at her two younger brothers. What the heck? Before she had a chance to ream them out over their rudeness and awful (ICK!) language—again, what they hell is up with Linda and that boyfriend of hers? –her cell phone buzzed, startling her.

_Why this goddamn iPhone never fucking rings is beyond me,_ she silently fumed.

As she answered with a slightly breathless, "Hi Bill," she could see out of the corner of her eye at least four sets of eyes peer up at her.

Peeved, she told Bill to hold on while she carried her phone out into the hall, away from prying ears.

_Hey, so how are you?_

Sookie could tell he was multitasking. She could always hear it in his voice when he was looking at his computer screen or reading mail.

"Good." She was, wasn't she? "Everything here is fine." Wasn't it? More or less.

_Oh?_

Something in his tone really rubbed her the wrong way. Like he didn't believe she could possibly have things under control. "What do you mean, Bill?"

_Well, Sookie, I would have expected things to be a bit more chaotic. From what you've described, it sounded like the events of the past day had you quite overwhelmed. Everything must be quite discombobulated._

Sookie knew what the word 'discombobulated' meant. But just because she knew it, didn't mean she liked Bill's way of using $10 words when 3 cent words would do. Short on fuse, she lit into him.

"Bill, you don't have to use the word 'discombobulated,' you know. Things here are FUCKED UP. Just say FUCKED UP. I know what FUCKED UP means. I know what DISCOMBOBULATED means too. But you know something? I'd actually prefer it if you just said FUCKED UP."

Silence. _Shit_, Sookie thought. _Why don't I learn? Now, I'm going to get a lecture…and it starts…now_

_Sookie, I don't appreciate it when you take that tone with me. You're not a teen-ager. You're an adult. To yell at me repeatedly using swear words is not a very grown-up, not to mention, not very ladylike. I daresay, I don't know what kind of child-rearing your parents subscribed to, but this total lack of inhibitions when it comes to using such vile and derogatory cuss words is not something I want to pass on to any children that you and I may one day have…._

Sookie held her phone away from her ear. Really, when he went off on this tangent, it could be a while. She brought the phone close in to hear if he was still talking.

_…and then there was the time you got that flat tire when you were bringing me to the airport in Dallas? Remember? There was no need for you to lose your temper and express yourself with such harsh, vile words. I don't know—_

She rolled her eyes. Bill could be like a Sanctimonious Energizer Bunny. She snickered, still holding the phone away from her ear. Finally, she thought she heard the beginning of a wind-down.

_Well, that's good that things are not as **discombobulated** as one would fear. How, exactly, are things going?_

_Hmmm_, Sookie thought, _leave it to Bill to overemphasize the word for good measure_.

"Um, they're going fine, Bill."

_Sookie, darling, you don't have to pretend with me. I know you too well. I can tell you're agitated. Otherwise you would **never** have jumped down my throat like you did. **Obviously**, the matters concerning the house and your relations are taking their toll on you. Have they been fighting? Is there much arguing and discord?_

Sookie frowned. Bill's tone sounded condescending to her ears.

"Bill," Sookie rolled her eyes, "when I tell you that everything is fine, I mean it; everything is fine. When you called just now, we were all—well most of us, anyway—were sitting in the living room, just as any family would be doing. We have the porch door opened so we're enjoying the nice breeze. Everyone was just hanging out."

_Who, darling? Who is there?_ Bill didn't like the sound of this 'hanging out'. It sounded like more of that 'Summer Camp' nonsense.

"Um, well," Sookie paused to make a mental playlist. "Pam, Maxine, and I were talking. The boys were playing a game with Jason and Eric. Ame was lying on the floor reading. Long Shadow was also in a heap on the floor. Tara and JB actually went out for a walk."

Silence.

_Eric Northman, the actor, is still there?_

"Yes, Bill. As are Pam and Maxine." Sookie glanced over at the living room door to make sure no one was nearby and proceeded to walk towards the kitchen, to give herself a little extra space. "Jase seems to have invited everyone to stay on a bit. It was his first act as 'head of the household'. I don't really feel comfortable—stepping in and being ungracious and asking everyone to leave. Honestly, there's room for everyone and we're all getting on pretty well. Pam has been doing the cooking. Maxine has been taking care of housecleaning—"

_And Eric Northman, Sookie? What is Eric Northman doing? _Bill's voice was pure ice.

"Well, actually, he's been helping out with cooking and housecleaning. Some gardening, I think. And he's good with watching the boys." _Why am I justifying Eric's presence to Bill_? Sookie asked herself._Honestly, I haven't figured it out myself why he's still here._

"Bill, I'm really tired." True, very true. Tired of this conversation for sure. "Anyway, I think we should probably cut this call short. You're obviously not here now, so I'm surmising you're not coming tonight. When will you be getting here?"

_Tomorrow, darling. I'll be there tomorrow. Do you think you can manage until I get there?_

_Manage_? Sookie shook her head. _Again with this? Does he even hear a word I'm saying?_

"Bill, I'll do my best," she muffled a snicker, "to _manage_ until you get here. That's," she held her breath for a moment to keep herself from bursting out laughing, "the best… I can do."

Bill wasn't quite sure of what to make of Sookie's stilted response, but he would just have to have faith in her that she would manage. And not fall to the charms of Eric Northman.

_Okay, then, darling. Have a good night and I'll see you some time tomorrow. I'll try to let you know when I leave so you'll know what time to expect me._

"Yes, of course," she let out a breath. "Goodnight Bill."

Sookie hung up. She wondered again if things were right between she and Bill. Sometimes everything seemed fine, wonderful even. They talked of books and current events, the economy, local and national politics, pop culture. But every now and again, it just seemed to her that they were the least suited couple on the planet. Never his strong suit, his sense of humor all but died over the phone.

Bill didn't do irreverent and so, when Sookie was with Bill, she missed being able to be irreverent. She could be irreverent with her siblings. They didn't care. Even most of her colleagues at the magazine had the attitude, "been there/done that". Nothing was sacred. But Bill…Bill…

Bill lived his life like he was in training for a visit from the Queen of England. If anything was messy or misplaced in his carefully constructed universe, he flipped his shit. Sookie made a practice of not letting it get to her, which wasn't hard to do while they maintained separate residences and independent lives.

But now that they were engaged and would soon be married and living under the same roof, it would be different. Either she'd have to learn to not let it get to her. Or, she'd have to change to keep the peace.

Then there was also the question of the kids. In case they wound up living with her, she knew coming to some sort of arrangement would not be easy. She wandered back to the living room and reclaimed her spot on the recliner.

"Hey, Sook," Jason's voice stirred her from her reverie.

"Yeah, Jase, what's up?"

"We have an ETA on Bill?"

She noticed Eric throw a glance in her direction at Jason's question. "Um, yeah. Tomorrow. Likely in the afternoon. He's gonna text me when he leaves."

"Okay, then," Jason nodded his head. Eric and Pam exchanged looks and Sookie thought she detected something in Eric's face as he looked down at the game board.

Returning to her thoughts, Sookie looked down at her magazine with unseeing eyes. Stealing one more glance at everyone as they sat around the living room, she couldn't help but ponder the ways of the universe.

It was fantastic—incredible really—the stuff movies are made about. Everyone looked completely at home. To a person, **they each looked placid, pleased, and permanent. It was fantastic, but there it was. They should all be somewhere else, but here they all were.**

* * *

**AN: ****Still Saturday. Bill arrives on Sunday. Bold text is from Elizabeth Cadell.**

**********Thanks for reading and reviewing! ****I'm thinking Pam wins the Funniest Character award. Rereaders, if you're reading this thinking "I don't remember her saying that" you're not crazy! I did add more Pam Snark. It's like cowbell. You can never have enough.**

**Again, please don't read the tabloid pages until it's time for them!**

**I realize Twitter rules but in case there's anyone on LiveJournal, I'd love to hear from you. I'm maldiscontent on there.**


	31. Fascinating Strangers

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or twisted, it's my influence.**

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**Chapter Thirty-One: Fascinating Strangers**

Sookie settled back down with the magazine she was pretending to read. Scanning her eyes around the room, she made a quick survey of the "family."

The game playing group, which had switched from board games to card games, now consisted of Pam and Maxine pitted against Jason and Eric, while the two boys watched and provided "hints." Pam, apparently, was also taking the opportunity to teach the boys how to "trash talk." That Pam. Although even she, Sookie acknowledged, was not as bad of an influence as Aunt Linda and Uncle Felipe apparently were.

Amelia seemed quietly happy. She was busy reading her books and jotting down notes. She had mentioned earlier that she wanted to go into town and have her hair changed back to its natural color. Sookie wondered if this marked the end of Ame's rebellion phase. Well, of course, there was still the witchcraft thing…

Long Shadow was sprawled out on the floor next to Amelia. Hoyt had played roll-catch with him earlier and it seemed to have tired the dog out.

Bill had advised her to try and manage, to get on as well as could, that he'd be there soon.

She had to force back a snicker; she couldn't have asked for a more calm—tranquil even—scene. No need to rush, Bill. No problems here.

Yep, it was a **right little, tight little family **except, of course, for People's Sexiest Man Alive, sitting right this minute with Hunter on his lap, **doing his "children adore me act**."

Pulling her gaze away from Eric, Sookie forced her eyes back down to her magazine and tried to rein in her "snark" filter.

Eric Northman, she reminded herself, brought the boys home, safe and sound. Not everyone would bother to get involved, much less someone busy in the middle of their late night work day. The boys clearly looked up to him—Hunter was playing with Eric's cards, they were both laughing right then as she stole a peek at them—and it had absolutely nothing to do with Eric's celebrity.

Jason…From what she could tell, Eric and Jason appeared to have gotten pretty tight, pretty quickly. Eric was definitely supporting Jason—giving him advice—in this 'coup' of the household. Sookie wasn't privy to all their conversations, but she knew part of this new side of Jason she was seeing, was the result of Eric's influence.

Tara and Amelia…both treated him like a friend. Tara perhaps scored him higher seeing how Jason was with him. Amelia…Amelia looked up to Pam and if Eric was Pam's friend, well that was really all Amelia needed to know. Besides, Sookie thought, she smashed his $100,000 Corvette; she ought to be kissing his ass.

Pam and Eric. Best friends, apparently—long before their arrival at Casa Stackhouse. Even Maxine and Eric seemed thick as thieves when Sookie had had a chance to observe them.

Taking all this in, Sookie couldn't help but feel that it was unfair that Bill should have to come in and compete with Eric. Everyone was treating Eric as one of the family. Everyone except her, of course. Even she couldn't deny that Mr. Northman was a tough act to follow.

Sookie sat, silently observing Eric, from her spot on the recliner, her magazine now lying across her lap. At that moment Eric happened to glance up and catch her watching him. **Her eyes, clear and blue, seemed more speculative than anything and he wondered where the animosity had gone.**

Where had the animosity gone? Sookie was feeling a bit guilty that maybe she'd been overly harsh with him. Whatever his life in Hollywood was, he clearly seemed to genuinely enjoy the family atmosphere. She supposed it was possible he became an actor to actually act, not to be _People's Sexiest Man Alive_ and have women throwing themselves at him.

As for him being there in the house, he hadn't sought any of this out. He had come across an 11 year old and a 12 year old by themselves at a bus depot in a horrible section of Shreveport and took it upon himself to make sure they got home safely. In doing so his $100,000 car got smashed up by a 13-year old member of the same family. He had done them all a favor and had gotten screwed because of it.

If Eric Northman enjoyed family life and it was something he lacked in his own life, it certainly seemed a small thing to give him in repayment for all he'd done for them. Had he not picked up Hoyt and Hunter, someone else could have and it might not have turned out as well as it had. It actually could have turned out very badly. She should be grateful to him. Yep, when she reasoned it out, she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for the way she'd been treating him.

If she thought he had overstayed his welcome, it was obvious she was the only one who felt this way. Besides, she couldn't imagine he'd continue to stick around once Bill arrived. If part of Eric's game plan in staying on at the house was to flirt with her and get under her nerves, well, there would be none of that once Bill got there.

Then…they could get on with figuring all this out. What they were doing. It seemed more and more that they were going to try things out Jason's way. In reality, the kids _didn't_ have anywhere else to go. Sure, she could take them back to Dallas with her, but they wouldn't want that. They wanted to be home. It was looking more and more like home was what they would have. Everyone, that is, but _her_.

She gave herself a full minute long pity party. While the plan had been to sell the house, she had no qualms about walking away. Leaving the house to strangers would have been easy. But now…now…she would be leaving it with everyone she loves in it. They're all staying put. She's the only one leaving. Hell, even Eric, Pam, and Maxine pretty much seemed like fixtures at this point. Even _they_ get to stay.

She, however, gets to leave.

She gets to go back to Dallas.

She gets to marry Bill.

Sookie sighed. Suddenly she realized it was time for the kids to be chased to bed. No sooner did the thought register in her mind, did she realize Maxine was already on it.

"Hey, Ame, Hoyt, Hunter, its time for bed I think." Maxine was laying the foundation. "Long day, huh? Look at Long Shadow. I think he's pooped, too."

Sookie glanced over at Long Shadow, who was perking his head up. Barely able to follow most directions, somehow he understood to play 'dead' whenever he heard the word 'bed.' The dog definitely had a few quirks. Sookie felt an unbidden smile settle on her lips. Jase maintained the dog was brilliant. He basically threw Sandra Pelt out of the house one day. It was fucking funny as all hell. Maybe he was brilliant.

The kids grumbled a bit, but seemed to concede quick enough to Maxine's direction. They followed the woman out to the hall.

"Pam? Tomorrow you'll come with me to get my hair done?" Amelia asked on her way out the door.

"Yes, Ame," Pam nodded. "Of course. We may have to steal a car from someone." She turned to smirk at Jason.

"Oh, I imagine," Jason stood up and stretched. "You can take mine. Maybe you can drop me off in town while you're doing your ladies things. I'm gonna see if Holly Cleary might be ready to collect on her Jason Stackhouse IOU." A big grin lit up his face.

"Hmmm." Pam's face could not have looked more serious and Sookie was momentarily concerned the woman was contemplating a 'Jason Stackhouse IOU,' of her own. Pam's next words belied the nature of her serious demeanor. "I just realized I didn't plan breakfast for tomorrow. I'm not sure if we have enough eggs. I may need to make an early morning grocery run. Keys, Stackhouse?"

"I'll leave 'em on the kitchen hook by the microwave, Ravenscroft." Jason replied.

"Excellent. Well, I'd better go inventory the kitchen. If I don't see anyone again, good night."

"'Night, Pam." Jason, bent low in front of the credenza, was fighting a losing battle trying to fit the board games back into the cabinet. "Damn, apparently these puppies fit in here one way and one way only and now, it's all off."

Sookie giggled. "Well, Jase, maybe you should just toss one of the games. We've got like two 'Clues,' and three 'Scrabbles,' and I don't even want to think about how many versions of 'Monopoly' we got in there." She shook her head in mock horror.

Jason looked at his sister disapprovingly. "Hmmm, and we were letting you clean up the house, huh? I bet even Eric knows why you can't toss the extra games. Eric?"

All eyes on him, Eric threw out the first thing that came to him. "Different box covers."

Jason nodded. "Exactly."

Sookie rolled her eyes and, rising, she made her way to the door that opened out to the front porch. Breathing in the warm spring air, she sighed. "Gorgeous night. That's what I told Tara and JB," she laughed, "I guess I convinced them. Haven't seen head nor tail of them for hours now."

Jason laughed and Eric, an idea forming in his mind, grinned. "Hey Jason," Eric looked over at Jason.

"Yes, Eric," Jason batted his eyes at his friend.

"You think your sister might accompany me outside to look at the stars?"

"Oh, I think she might be persuaded," Jason laughed. "You won't be able to get anything over on her, remember? **She armed against fascinating strangers. She's got Bill**."

Sookie, not fully understanding her brother's comment, still threw him a dirty look. She didn't know how but she was positive he meant it as a slight.

"Aw, don't give that look, Sook," Jason called her on her sour face. "Hey, you remember our old **family whistle**?" Jason paused to whistle. In the distance they could here three successive whistles from Ame, Hoyt, and Hunter. "If Big Guy here is doing something inappropriate, just whistle and we'll all have your back."

Hearing the old family call, Sookie felt herself choke up. _This_, she thought, _is what I missed so much over the past year_. It occurred to her how difficult it would be to try to explain it to Bill. Would he get it? No, she was pretty sure he wouldn't. It would be like trying to explain the summer camp thing.

"Hmmm, what do I do if she does something inappropriate?" Eric asked Jason.

"Fuck, man," Jason laughed, "you enjoy it."

Sookie threw them both a look. Debating the wisdom of going for a walk with _People's Sexiest Man Alive_, she finally just decided why the hell not?

"Sure, Eric." Sookie shocked the hell out of him, and Jason too. "I'd love to get some fresh air." Without a backward glance Sookie wandered out onto the porch.

Eric shot a look at Jason, who, wide-eyed, shrugged. He couldn't explain her sister anymore than he could explain any other woman when it came down to the men/women things.

So Eric followed Sookie outside, his mind deep in thought. _That was too easy_, he told himself. Briefly he wondered if she was planning on doing him the bodily harm her eyes had promised many times in the past twenty-four hours.

_Maybe Pam and I need a special whistle._

They made their way down the porch steps and set out on their walk.

* * *

**AN: ****Still Saturday. Bill arrives on Sunday. Bold text is from Elizabeth Cadell.**

**********Thanks for reading and reviewing! The family whistle is Elizabeth's; insanity over game boxes is a Miral family tradition. (Do other families argue over which box to keep?)**

**********Rereaders can appreciate this: Next Up: The White Trash Brigade, Part I**

**:D**


	32. White Trash Brigade, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. If it's a swear word or twisted, it's my influence.**** We're seriously deviating from Elizabeth Cadell's original at this point. Kids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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Chapter Thirty-Two: White Trash Brigade, Part 1**

Pam Ravenscroft didn't like being saddled with emotions. She didn't want to be one of those people who didn't get anything done because they wasted too much time and energy on a lot of blah blah blah self-reflection. Rather than waste time on a lot of self-indulgent introspection, she chose to act. Acting for her usually came without a second thought, especially as she usually acted primarily in self-interest; she did not often act on generosity.

However, interest in her 'self' did extend broadly to include anyone she considered one of 'hers.' And that little circle of who exactly qualified as 'hers' was apparently getting larger. Given her actions when the White Trash Brigade arrived at the Stackhouse Farm, she couldn't help but deduce that at some point over the past day Tara Stackhouse had become one of 'hers.' Amelia had been 'hers' since she had picked the girl up at Natchitoches. Jason had been 'hers' since she joined Eric on 'Team Jason.' Hoyt and Hunter were both 'hers' as demonstrated by her willingness to assist in the scheme to rid Sookie of the odious Douche Bag. Pam frowned. Did helping the kids free Sookie of Bill make Sookie one of 'hers' too?

_Dammit_, thought Pam.

How the hell she had managed to adopt the entire Stackhouse family Pam wasn't quite sure. She figured ultimately it was Eric's fault.

In any event, once the group in the living room had broken up, Pam ducked into the kitchen to do a quick inventory of the pantry before heading up to bed.

From the kitchen, the sounds of the house were muted. Maxine had gone upstairs to shepherd the kids to bed. Jason had wandered upstairs as well. Eric had somehow convinced the little spitfire to go for a walk. Tara and JB still hadn't returned from their walk. Given the length of their absence, Pam figured the couple was doing bad things in the woods.

A quiet starry night, with just the sounds of country in the background, Pam was startled by a knock at the kitchen door.

Wondering who would come around so late at night—past eleven o'clock—Pam further questioned who would come around to the back door of the house?

She opened the door and her face froze in shock.

What the fuck was this?

She wished Northman had been there. She didn't know how to explain the duo at the door. She wondered if it would be completely wrong for her to pull her cell phone out and snap a quick photograph.

_This_, she thought, _is priceless. I'd give anything to have a postcard with a photograph of these two. 'Greetings from Louisiana…circa 1982.'_

Podunk Hick Woman #1 had bleached blonde hair in that 'curtain' hairdo that Linda Evans sported during the height of the 'Dynasty' craze. While her face didn't seem that old, her hair and clothes aged her at least 10 years if not more. She wore a long denim cowgirl skirt and a flannel print shirt. It was so horrible, Pam wanted to claw her own eyes out. And give the woman a makeover. Not mutually exclusive, Pam figured either order would suffice.

Podunk Hick Woman #2 had straight brown hair in a pixie cut. Not nearly as bad as PHW #1, Pam thought the younger woman actually could have been attractive. She was wearing really short Daisy Dukes and a tank that said, "Slut and Proud". Pam decided the girl deserved kudos for having the cajones to wear the shirt. On her feet, however, were the nastiest most disgusting pair of 'flip flops' Pam had ever seen.

After what seemed like an hour but in all likelihood was probably more like thirty seconds, Pam was done with her quiet-yet-thorough evaluation. Finally she spoke.

"Yes?"

"Hello," said 'Krystal', "I'm Crystal" Pam's eyes widened. _So the 'Dynasty' look was on purpose then? _she wondered. "Norris Grissom Myers Norris."

"Yes?" Pam's eyes went wider. Pam waited. What was this…thing?

"and this is my daughter, Tanya Grissom."

_Hmmm, daughter_, thought Pam. _Could've been sisters. Maybe they still can be? _Pam wasn't quite clear on what how the rules in the south worked. "Yes?"

"We're looking for Sookie Stackhouse."

"Sookie is not here at the moment," Pam thought she'd act a bit and pretend to be polite. "Can I help you?" Pam made an effort to smile, but her overly toothy grin came off as slightly alarming.

"Um…well," Crystal was slightly disarmed by Pam's smile. "The Stackhouse kids…were over at my house today…I have a very nice home in Hotshot. We're a very tight, close knit community. Anyway, those Stackhouse kids were up at my house and they threatened my boy."

Pam raised a brow. "Hmmm, that," _interesting_, "is interesting."

"Well, yeah, I should say so. It's a hell of a lot more than interesting. Cal's scared something fierce now. Amelia put a curse on him."

Pam smiled. It was her genuine smile. "Well, then, I'm sure he did something very worthy to incur her wrath. What did he do?" Pam knew full well what the story was; their offspring must've been the one to desecrate the tree house.

"Nothing!" This outburst came from the quiet Tanya. "That little bitch came out with her monster brothers—a bunch of freaks all of them, if you ask me!" Tanya was glancing down the hallway that connected the kitchen to the remainder of the first floor. "And did her heebeejeebee mumbojumbo shit and now the kid's scared shitless!"

Pam noticed something didn't seem right about this Tanya c/hick. Well, in all honesty, very little seemed 'right' with either of these inbred cretins, but Tanya was frantic perusal down the hallway seemed a bit too intense. Finally, 'Daisy' left the kitchen and started to make her way down the hallway towards the living room.

_Okay_, Pam thought, _I can tolerate you two nasty, vile creatures here in the kitchen. Where the Ajax, bleach and sanitizer are readily available. But I can not have these vermin infesting the entire house or I'll have to call in a cleaning crew._

Pam darted from the kitchen to follow Tanya, passing the girl in the hallway. Eyes widening, nostrils flaring, and lips frowning when the girl's flip flop grazed one of her Manolo Blahniks, Pam headed the girl off at the pass before she could continue on her spying expedition.

"Listen, Half Breed, I don't know who you think you are or where you think you're going, but no one invited you to enter this house farther than the kitchen. Now, as for your brother-son-uncle-cousin, this child—I'm sorry, what is its name?"

"Cal," Tanya answered throwing a cold look at Pam.

"Right. This Cal, your brother-son-uncle-cousin, broke into the boys' tree house and damaged it with paint. The way I see it that is breaking and entering and vandalism. Now, Amelia is just a little girl. A sweet little orphan girl who likes to pretend that she's a witch so that she can feel that she has some semblance of control over a world in which young orphan girls have very little say in what happens to them," Pam was tapping into her long-retired acting skills to pull this one off. Even at 13, Amelia was no shrinking violet. "You…and your" Pam glanced back over Tanya's shoulder towards Crystal, "mother-sister-aunt-cousin here don't _really_ believe she's a witch, now do you?"

Tanya turned back to glance at her mother. The two women exchanged a look.

"Well, if that's the case," Pam rolled her eyes, "then feel free to call the sheriff. Maybe we can find someone to perform an exorcism on her."

Pam stood with her arms crossed, a cold stare fixed on the two women.

Finally Tanya cleared her throat and started to speak. "Well, when you put it that way," she looked back at her mother, "it sounds a little silly."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Pam smiled almost pleasantly now. _Hmm, I can almost smell the air freshening; soon they will be gone._

"Um, is that JB DuRone's car out in front? Is he here?"

Pam's eyes squinted as she glared at Tanya. Is this why the vermin are really here? Surely JB was not involved with this…this…thing? It was obvious that despite whatever shenanigans JB may have gotten himself into while the girl was in New York, that boy only had eyes for Tara. Too bad, she thought, men and their second brains get them into such trouble… In any event, if Pam hadn't already decided it was time for the White Trash Brigade to leave, now she really wanted them out. Tara and JB might return from their walk at any moment.

"Yes, that's JB's car. But he is not here. A few of them went out earlier. I believe they went in Mike's car."

Scowling at them, Pam decided she had had enough. "Now, I'd like you both to leave." Again she attempted to smile. Again it came off looking like she was seconds away from biting their faces off like Hannibal Lecter.

"Well," Crystal, staring at Pam, finally pushed herself to speak. "I don't know who the hell you are, but it is obvious to me that those Stackhouses have come back even trashier than they were when they left and now they've brought even more trash with them!"

Glowering at Linda Evans and Daisy Duke, Pam replied. "You're a fine one to call others trash. I believe just gazing upon you has caused my retina to explode."

Crystal's mouth fell open, in shock over the latest insult.

"Listen, I've had about all I can take from you two. I'd suggest you get out of here. Now. And don't come back. As far as I'm concerned, you're harassing us. Next time you want to talk to someone here, you pick up a phone. I'm going to tell Amelia to ward off the property so that your hair falls off if you try to come on the property again. Or maybe you'll get an infestation where the sun doesn't shine." She rolled her eyes up and down the two women. "My guess is that it wouldn't be the first time, but it would be unpleasant just the same. Do you get me?"

Tanya and Crystal looked at Pam. Again they wondered who…what…the hell she was.

Crystal decided this wasn't over.

"Listen, you tell Sookie and Jason that they're gonna have to answer to me! Not only that, Cal's stepdaddy, Calvin, is going to be mighty upset that Cal's all jammed up because of these crazy Stackhouses. We in Hotshot don't take kindly to people putting hexes on our kids. You tell them that! You hear me?"

"Whatever." Pam jerked her chin towards the kitchen door. "I have so lost interest in the two of you. It's time for you to go. It's getting late and you've already delayed my bedtime as now I'm going to have to mop and sanitize everything you've touched," Pam scrunched her face. "Let's call it a night, shall we? You two, I trust, can use your sense of smell to track your way back to others of your kind?"

Crystal, eyes flashing, glared at Pam. Tanya squinted her eyes. The two Hotshot women exchanged a look and then stormed out of the house, huffing angrily.

Following them, Pam shut the door—locking it firmly behind them. She walked around to the front door, opened it and turned on the hall light so they could clearly see her watching them depart. They got in their green and white Ford pickup, started the engine, and made their way down the driveway towards Hummingbird Lane.

Yes. Pam was not sure exactly when it had happened, but sticking up for the Stackhouses against those horrible half breeds definitely felt right to her. Person by person, each of these Stackhouses were now 'hers'. She couldn't help but recognize that.

The only one that she was definitely wavering on was Barracuda Sookie. But she had faith that Eric would get the Barracuda to crack eventually. Possibly even tonight. Like Tara and JB, they had disappeared for a walk and had not been seen or heard from since. Maybe there was something in the country air. A little magic was bringing out everyone's horniest side. Maybe she could have a little fun with Jason while she was here. Her car was in the shop after mangling with Northman's tacky Corvette. Did that not entitle her to her own 'Jason Stackhouse IOU'?

Eventually she'd have to go back to her life, but for now there was nowhere else she would rather be. Pam Ravencroft was enjoying her Podunk Stackhouse Staycation.

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**AN: Two more chapters and Saturday is over. BTW, I know AB gave TB!Eric a line about "brother cousins" but this chapter originally posted before that episode aired. So it's mine. I didn't really change this chapter beyond adding more Pam Snark. LOL. What can I say? It's like Cowbell. **

**********Rereaders can appreciate this: Next Up: Eric and Sookie Go For A Walk!**

**:D**


	33. Eric and Sookie Go for a Walk

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

**

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**Chapter Thirty-Three: Eric & Sookie Go for a Walk **

The night air was crisp and a little cool for Louisiana. Eric looked around and was once again amazed by the contradiction of the country. Away from the house, the night was wrapped in darkness; despite this, millions of stars cast a luminescent glow. Tearing his eyes from the luminous bodies above, he rested them on the luminous body below. Sookie, too, had been stargazing. Now she, deep in thought, was looking around and unconsciously biting her bottom lip. Finally, unable to decide, she asked Eric his preference.

"Short or long?"

Taken off guard, Eric couldn't even construct a guess as to what she was referring.

"Excuse me?"

"Short walk or long walk? We could go along the road a bit and follow that creek. There's a pond nearby. Or we could walk along this way," she gestured towards the right, "and there's a creek that leads to a bigger lake. That's the nicer walk. I haven't done it in ages, but it's a bit of a time commitment. So, short or long?"

Eric smiled into the night. This was an easy question after all. "Long."

A peaceful silence descended on the two as they made their way towards the creek. Sookie, in a surprising moment of self-awareness, realized she felt oddly happy. At this random moment, walking along this dirt path towards some nameless creek with a man who had dropped into her life unexpectedly, she felt happy. She felt calm and at ease. After the hectic nature of the past 24 hours, it was nice being able to simply enjoy something.

Sookie wondered idly if Eric, too, was enjoying the walk, but then dismissed the idea as silly. She couldn't imagine how many girls he had romanced in exactly this way. She knew many girls would kill for this opportunity and here she was. She smiled to herself. At least she'd have a story for her grandkids one day: the time she went for a moonlit stroll with _People's Sexiest Man Alive_. Although, grinning to herself, she wondered if them washing the dishes together wasn't the more amusing story?

For his part, Eric, too, was very much enjoying himself. For the first time Sookie had, if not dropped, then at least partially lowered her protective barrier. Add to this the fact that he apparently had her siblings' blessing to romance her away from her fiancé. Jason's approval was unstated, while the kids' opinions had been quite emphatically expressed.

Eric could barely contain his grin when he recalled the episode earlier that evening when Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter had explained, with Pam's support, their idea. They wanted Eric to flirt with Sookie to make Bill jealous. They felt this would force the Douche Bag 'out' of his Douche Closet and he'd finally show himself for the true 'asshat' he was.

It was a request Eric was only too happy to comply with. This moonlit walk presented him with his first opportunity to make headway in this effort. That she agreed—_he still didn't understand why she'd agreed_—marked, to him, unqualified progress.

As they wandered along the path, Eric acknowledged the fact that he had the set, and the actors; the only thing missing was the script. After a few minutes, he decided to strike up a conversation.

"You know something?" He glanced over at her. "You remind me quite a bit of the lead character on the show."

"What? Your vampire show?" Sookie giggled. "I hope it's not 'cause I'm high-maintenance, blood-thirsty, and old as dirt?"

"No," Eric laughed with her. "I don't mean the vampire character. The wife. You remind me of the wife. She's human."

"Oh. That a fact?" Sookie grinned and Eric was positive that, if there had been more illumination, he would have been able to see that pink hue along her neckline. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag. I haven't actually ever seen your show. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." And there wasn't; it was just a show. "It's just a show. There's only been a mini-season so far. Eight episodes. Not that many people _have_ seen it. But the ones who have, happened to hit the advertisers' target market."

"Oh." Notwithstanding her not being a fan of the show, now her curiosity was piqued by the comparison Eric had drawn. "So, um, what's the wife like?"

"Well, she's smart, resourceful." Eric peered at Sookie as he spoke. "Strong-willed, quick to make decisions," he paused, "and beautiful."

"Oh." Caught off guard by his last observation, Sookie found herself momentarily at a loss for words. Until his other observations sank in._'Strong-willed.' 'Quick to make decisions, _she mentally played them back. She looked at him, meeting his eyes. "So, you think Jason's idea of keeping the house and him taking over is a good one?"

Eric let out a breath. _Okay_, he thought, _I was not really looking to go there, but…_

"Sookie, I imagine your perspective of Jason is still tied to who he was before he left. If your hesitation to let go is because you're afraid Jason can't handle it," he shot a glance at her as he spoke, "I can tell you he can."

Eric had been apprehensive about voicing an opinion on this issue for fear it would cause Sookie to strengthen her prejudice against him. However, he knew, if asked, he wouldn't throw Jason under the bus; he knew he'd be honest.

It was with pleasure and relief he saw that his honesty had not resulted in the abrupt buttressing of her protective barrier. Studying her profile in the moonlight, he saw that Sookie's face remained if not tranquil, at least composed and thoughtful. She did not seem piqued by his words.

"Hmmm. Yeah, I can agree with that," Sookie said. "It's not that he's that much younger than me—just a year—but he's always been a big kid, playing around, not taking things serious, womanizing," she glanced over at Eric and rolled her eyes, laughing. "The stories of him getting into trouble with that third leg of his! _Unbelievable piss poor judgment_! But he's different now. Even after only a day, I can see that. I mean we've talked, emailed –over the past few years. I knew he'd changed."

"So, are you going to let him take over the house?"

Sookie sighed. She stopped walking momentarily—prompting Eric to pause with her. He glanced at her, expectantly.

"I don't know that it's a matter of me 'letting' Jase do anything. I was the one who scolded the kids last night, but it feels like it's been nearly 24 hours since I was in charge."

Done with her observation, she resumed her pace. Eric remained close to her side as they continued their walk.

"Hmmm." Thinking it relevant to his cause, Eric found himself wanting to suss out the nature of her misgivings. "Well, you must feel good—_proud_— that they can manage on their own."

"Well, honestly," Sookie peered at Eric in the darkness, "what I'm mostly feeling is lonely." She let out a humorless chuckle. "Remember? 'Strong-willed'? 'quick-to-make decisions'? Truth is, I guess I've just gotten used to being in charge. Even with everyone all split up this past year. I still was the one calling the shots. It's not easy to just step aside."

"Understandable," Eric nodded. "But you had to expect this moment would come eventually?"

"I guess," Sookie replied hesitantly. "Our mother was ill for a while before she passed. I actually took care of most things since our daddy died. So," Sookie paused to calculate, "since I was 17-18. Yeah, that's a long time." She grinned sardonically. "Maybe I am a bloodthirsty, control freak. That's what Ame calls me."

"Well, I don't know that I'd go quite that far," Eric snorted.

Sookie, stopping, quirked an eyebrow at Eric. "_Quite that far_?" she repeated.

"Well, you said yourself you're not used to not being in charge," he laughed.

Chagrined, she giggled too. She felt Eric's eyes on her and her breath caught. _It's almost like he's holding me with his eyes_, she thought. _No wonder he got the cover of People._

Though it took some effort on her part, she finally willed her eyes away from his and refocused them on the path ahead.

"I guess you were in the right place at the right time. First born, that is," he grinned. "I find it interesting the way your family is broken up. The older crew and the younger crew. I would think it makes it different. Challenging, but fun."

"Oh yeah," she agreed. "It's definitely different. I don't know that I'd recommend it. At least it didn't really work out that well with us, with our parents. Daddy died in a flash flood. He was only 48. Mama never really got over it and then she got sick. So, for Ame, Hoyt, and Hunter, they had me, Jase and Tara, but they didn't really have our parents. Hunter was only two when daddy died. He barely has any memories of him."

"Well, from what I've seen the past couple of days, you've done an amazing job with them. The boys, Amelia, they're terrific kids." He looked at her. "But you don't need me to tell you that."

Sookie nodded. "Yeah, they are terrific kids," she agreed. "When they're not being devil spawn."

"In any case, you must be relieved that everything is coming together as well as it is, just when you need to start thinking about your wedding." Eric's comment was deliberate as he wanted to gauge her reaction. "With the baby birds taking care of themselves, the bloodthirsty control freak can focus on herself."

Sookie hesitated, not really knowing how to respond. "Um, yeah," she said quietly, dully. "I guess I can."

Sookie found that she didn't want to talk or think about Bill or about getting married right then. She didn't know why she felt that way and, at that moment, she didn't care. She decided it was time for a more light-hearted conversation.

"Hmmm…You ever been to summer camp?" Sookie asked him, turning to give him a sideways glance. If she had expected any particular response to her somewhat random query, it certainly wasn't the one she got.

Eric let out a surprised snort of laughter. "You mean aside from now?"

Sookie felt her heart skip a beat. She looked at Eric, a smile playing at her lips. _Yeah, you would get it, wouldn't you?_ She thought.

"Yeah," she grinned. "Aside from now."

"Yes. When I was a child in Sweden, I went for a few years. As an only child, I didn't have many playmates. Summer camp… was as if I suddenly had dozens of siblings. And you?"

"Yep. Me, Jase, and Tara went for a couple of years when we were kids. I guess it gave me an opportunity to perfect my high-handed control-freak nature," she laughed. Then more seriously she continued. "The younger crew didn't. We didn't have the money then."

The fell into an easy quiet and the momentary lull in conversation coincided with their arrival at the lake. Sookie pointed out a few key points on the Stackhouse Family Tour.

"That's where Jason fell when he was…eight? We were all just fooling around. But he wasn't prepared to go in. He almost drowned. JB and my dad jumped in after him and pulled him out. You'd think it might've cured him of what ails him. But it took the military for that I guess. If there was a reckless meter, Jase would've busted the dial long ago."

Eric smiled at her. "It must have been a lot of fun," Eric said, "having such a big family."

"Oh, yeah." Sookie paused, smiling too; she could feel her eyes welling up. "It's been terrific. I…love them all so much…I am really proud of them. They're all great," she let out a snort. "Aside from the fucktarded things the kids did yesterday, they manage well. Their hearts are always in the right place. There's a lot to be said for that."

Eric could tell she was biting back tears. He stopped walking to give her an opportunity to compose herself. She turned away from him briefly, just looking out over the creek. Once she'd regained her composure, she turned her attention back to Eric.

"So you were an only child?"

"Yes. Only child."

"Oh. My gut response is to say 'sorry,' but," she laughed, "that's probably not the politically correct thing to say!"

"Hmmm, maybe not," he smiled at her. "That's probably why I'm enjoying my stay at Camp Stackhouse so much. My parents were happy when they were together. My father was older. He died when I was a teenager and my mother died a few years ago."

"Did she get to see your career take off?"

"She got to see me in films as the 'Metrosexual Artist Friend,' and the 'Gay Model.' Actually, she got to see me onstage in several off-Broadway productions. I don't know that I could have chosen better pieces to share with her. I regard them, still, as some of my best work."

"Oh?"

Hitting on a topic very dear to his heart, Eric wanted her to understand. "On-stage, you're really in character, really in the moment. With television and film, the scenes are chopped up. It's a different process. You have to come at it differently, how you channel your emotions."

"Oh, that's interesting," she replied. "You know, I guess I've just thought of you as Eric Northman the celebrity, not so much as Eric Northman the actor."

"Well," he shrugged, "it's part of it. More people know me from the tabloids than from acting. It is what it is. I try to live as normal a life as I can," he started laughing then. "I'm sure you can tell by my relationship with Pam, I don't exactly surround myself with 'yes men,' or 'yes women', for that matter." Sookie laughed with him.

The two fell back into a companionable silence as they neared the lake. Sookie felt a twinge of sadness upon realizing that the walk was half over. She had enjoyed it; she felt comfortable with this man, this stranger who just wandered in and would, presumably, just as easily wander out. The thought of not seeing him brought up feelings too potent to dismiss, but too disconcerting to explore. She would just remember this for what it was: a **windy and romantic interlude. **As happens in life sometimes, she was just in the right place at the right time.

As they passed a couple of trees retracing their path to the clearing, Sookie tripped on a tree root and Eric instinctively put his hand out to catch her. She felt a slight electric shock when he touched her and she felt her cheeks flush. His right hand was still wrapped around her left arm, when he used his other hand to push several strands of hair away from her eyes. His sapphire blue eyes were filled with concern as he gazed at her.

"Are you okay?"

It was all she could do to nod. She practically sighed in relief when she was able to pull her hand away.

_No_, she scolded herself. _Do not let this happen! Just because every other woman in America has fallen for him, doesn't mean you have to. You've made your decision and you're engaged to Bill. You're just some conquest to Eric Northman. He's only interested in you because he can't have you!_

She found little comfort in the words. Maybe his interest in her was superficial, but she was having a harder and harder time denying her own interest in Mr. Northman. Chagrined at the irony, Sookie couldn't help but be amused by the fact that, in the midst of all the turmoil over the house, she might have a new dilemma on her hands: a dilemma who was 6'4", blonde and broad-shouldered, and standing a few feet away.

No! She couldn't let herself fall for him!

Wanting to shake herself out of the mood she'd sunk into, Sookie thought she had the perfect solution. "Hey, Northman," she challenged, "how about we race back?"

"Well, I'm not sure, Stackhouse," he grinned, "I've got about a foot on you. Should we set a handicap?"

"Nah," and with that Sookie took off sprinting towards the house.

Taken by surprise, Eric followed in pursuit, but not before Sookie secured a solid lead. After a few minutes, they, panting and laughing, were approaching the edge of the woods that encircled the house. Having over-exerted herself in her determination to win, Sookie was doubled over with laughter as she ran. She didn't care if her sides ached and she couldn't breathe, she felt great.

Eric was laughing too. "You know," he called out to her, "that wasn't fair."

"Uh-uh. All's fair," Sookie shouted back. "Besides, you said you wanted to set a handicap."

"Yes, but you didn't set it. You just took off."

"Ha! Sore loser!" Sookie mocked him. At that moment, as if the karma police truly existed and were watching, Sookie went down. "OUCH!" Collapsing in a heap, she landed facedown in the dirt.

"Sookie?" Eric was immediately at her side. "Are you okay?"

Helping her sit up, he saw her face was scratched and dirty.

"Yeah, I'm mostly fine. I think I must've twisted my ankle when I tripped before. This time it just kind of gave way."

"Well, take my arm. Let's see if you can stand." With a hand wrapped around Eric's arm, Sookie attempted to stand. She automatically shifted her weight to the uninjured foot, lifting one foot up like an ostrich "Can you shift your weight onto your other foot?" At his encouragement, she gingerly lowered her injured foot and attempted to stand using both feet.

"OUCH!" Back up the foot went. "Um, no. Apparently, I can't." Sookie was silent for a moment. Thinking, she had an idea. "Okay, how about you run on back and bring the Cabrio out to get me? We're nearly at the clearing, anyway. The car's small, it can get through the woods by the house. I'll just need help hobbling from here to where the trees open up."

Glancing away from Sookie, Eric smirked deviously. He had a better idea.

"How about I just give you a piggyback ride?" Eric suggested.

Laughing, Sookie shook her head. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yes. That's much simpler than my leaving you here and driving your car through the woods." He smiled. "You've witnessed my nighttime driving skills." He tossed that in for good measure; he knew how much she loved her Volkswagen.

"Fudge," she replied. "You're right," she sighed. Looking intently into Eric's face, Sookie could tell by the glint in his eyes, he was very very amused by this turn of events. "I guess," she added. Now this, this really was fucktarded. This might even beat the washing the dishes story. Amused, she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Eric asked.

"This! This is just fucking ridiculous!"

"What part?"

"All of it? The fact that I'm 27 and twisted my ankle and now need _America's Sexiest Man Alive_ to give me a piggyback ride? The fact that the house has turned into some kind of neverland camp for Hollywood thrill-seekers and retired urban planners?"

Eric chortled. She had a point. "Well, since you recognize how important it is to me," Eric replied, grinning, "you can't deny me the thrill of a piggyback ride through the woods, can you?" He turned his head sideways and gazed at her with sad, puppy dog eyes.

Watching him, Sookie burst out laughing again. _Fuck_, she thought. _He would have to be funny too?_

"Come on, lover," Eric moved in front of her, crouching down so she could climb aboard. She did not see his face as he called her by the endearment and he did not see her face as she registered first shock, then a blush. "Hop on."

Sookie shook her head incredulously. _Yep_, she thought, _my life's ridiculous._

With Eric's help, she scrambled up onto his back. After a bit of squirming, she finally positioned herself with her arms circling his neck and holding tightly onto his chest.

Eric let out a satisfied-sounding sigh."Hmmm. May I say you do that very well?"

Sookie's eyes shot wide open. "Eric! Between that and the 'lover' comment, your flirting is off the charts!" She laughed. "Stop it!"

Although they'd advanced only a few steps, Eric stopped. Ever the opportunist, he swung Sookie around so that she was no longer on his back. Instead, he now held her with her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands securely under her ass.

Staring into Eric's eyes, Sookie had to remind herself to breathe. What the hell just happened? "Eric," she started, struggling to keep her voice even. "What are you doing?"

"Is it not obvious?" Eric let out another snort of laughter. "Sookie, I am trying to seduce you. Admittedly, I had nothing to do with your fall, but I don't see why I shouldn't make some good come out of an unfortunate accident." He said this easily and unapologetically.

"Did you offer me a piggyback ride just so you'd get me in your arms? That's kind of underhanded."

"No, I offered you a piggyback ride because you twisted your ankle and couldn't walk. Once I had you on my back, I realized how easy it would be to just swing you around and have you in my arms," he continued to meet her eyes. "And, thus far, lover, nothing with you has been easy. So I thought I owed it to myself." He smiled guilelessly.

Before she could stop herself, Sookie smiled back at him. Breaking their gaze, she looked toward the trees and considered her next words. What had just happened? What did she want to happen?

"I don't play around, Eric." Turning back to him, she resumed their eye contact. "I'm engaged to Bill. Admittedly, we—_he and I_ –have our issues, but I will not play around on him. Either I'm with him. Or I'm not. I will not be with two guys at the same time. As you may have noticed, I prefer to keep things straightforward."

"I understand," Eric smiled at her. "I get who you are."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow to him as if to say, "Oh yeah? Prove it."

"You are smart, loyal, brave, responsible, hard-working—"

Her cheeks flushing crimson, Sookie cut him off. "Oh, yeah. I sound like a barrel of laughs!" she interrupted sarcastically. "Just the kind of girl America's hottest Hollywood heartthrob would be interested in!"

Eric gave her a look. Quietly he asked, "Let me finish, please?"

Chastised, Sookie quieted down.

"You are all those things, but you are also beautiful, creative, you have a sense of fun and adventure. And I don't know who America's hottest Hollywood heartthrob is, but _I _am very much interested in you."

Eric didn't give Sookie a chance to argue with him. Half lifting her up to him, half-leaning down, he kissed her. Starting off sweet and soft, it didn't take Sookie long to get caught up in the kiss. They explored each other, allowing the kiss to grow both in intensity and depth, until they found themselves breathless. At last, they broke and gave themselves a little space, leaving only their foreheads still touching. Silent, they stayed like that for a short while, just listening to the sounds of the night and of their own breaths.

Finally, Eric broke the silence. "What are you going to do?"

"I have to think about this. I mean," she paused to consider her words, "I was _supposed_ to marry Bill. I've known him for nearly a year. Besides that, I have other responsibilities to think about."

While her verbal reply may have left much to be desired, Sookie's body language completely belied her words. It was with amusement Eric noted the way she leaned against his chest, snuggling comfortably into him as she spoke of her fiance.

"Breaking up with my respectable fiancé to have a…a …_torrid_," Eric let out a groan at Sookie's word choice, "affair with a Hollywood actor isn't exactly the most responsible thing I could do." She raised her head to meet his gaze.

Eric, his eyes laughing, looked at her. "Do you promise it will be torrid? Can I hold you to that?"

"Eric!" Sookie laughed and play punched him in the shoulder.

"Ouch." Laughing, he pointed out her folly. "You realize if you damage the shoulder, somebody—_not me_—winds up butt-first on the ground?"

"Yeah," she snickered. "I realized it was a stupid thing to do the second I did it." She stopped and seemed to take in a double meaning behind her words.

Eric immediately knew what she was thinking. "Sookie, it's not a stupid thing to do. Trust me." He lightly brushed her lips with his own.

_God_, Sookie thought, _this man can kiss_.

Just when she feared his lips would render her brain incapable of formulating another coherent thought, Eric pulled away.

Eric, for his part, was heartened by her body language and the words that seemed to roll easily off her tongue. Not 'torrid'—although her using that term greatly amused him. He was more pleased by her comment 'I was supposed to marry Bill.' 'Breaking up with my respectable fiance.' He was not going to point it out to her. Although she seemed well on her way, she needed to make these decisions on her own. That didn't mean he wouldn't prod her though. Holding her gaze, he repeated his question.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't answer that right here, right now. I'm gonna have to think about it. All of it. There's a lot."

He couldn't argue with that. He should probably take some time to think about things himself. Thrilled as he was by the progress they'd made, he now needed to consider Sookie's reaction to finding out the extent of his involvement with 'Team Jason.' For that matter, there was also the fact that her younger siblings had basically asked him to seduce her for their Operation: Douche Bag Removal. Of course, they only wanted him to flirt with Sookie in front of Bill; Eric was merely being pragmatic jumping at a much better opportunity.

Knowing their time together now was a window that was destined to close upon their return to the house, Eric decided one more kiss was warranted. He leaned in and pressed lightly against her lips, deepening the kiss, his tongue sought entrance into her mouth. Sookie met his urgency with her own. Breaking away, he nuzzled her left cheek, letting his lips travel down to her neck, finally settling nibbling on her ear.

"Hmmm," she struggled to think. "We need to get back to the house. It's time to go back. Full day tomorrow."

"Hmmm," he echoed her. "You realize it's in my best interests to keep you here? If I refuse to carry you back, it would take you hours to hobble back to the house."

Sookie feigned outrage. "Hey! That's not fair! I wanna go back to the house! Now! I need to put ice on my ankle. I've got too much craziness going on to be cooped up in the house."

"Fine, I'll bring you back, no matter how much I want to keep you here," he leaned down and nuzzled her neck again. "Please do not dismiss this, lover." Eric captured her eyes once more.

"I won't, Eric," she replied. "I promise. We'll talk again."

Eric nodded. "You ready for me to flip you back around, lover?"

Shaking her head, Sookie sniggered. "Yes, and I think you might want to save the 'lover' talk for when we're alone."

"Oh, yes," Eric replied in a tone that sent shivers down her spine. "When we're alone, which will be soon. Once you've divested yourself of extraneous fiancés."

Sookie, once more in position on Eric's back, felt more empowered this time to explore his body. She slid her hands into his shirt and twined her fingers into his chest hair.

Feeling her fingers barely an inch from his nipple, Eric groaned. He stopped walking.

"Eric, is something wrong?"

"Lover," his voice was pained. "If you want to get back to the house in the next hour, wearing clothes, you'd best stop doing what you're doing."

Sookie's eyes widened and she blushed. She found it thrilling—and pretty hot—that she had that kind of effect on him. She removed her hands from inside his shirt. No longer playing with his chest hair, she then had to fight the urge to nibble on his ear, which she realized was dangerously close to her mouth. Wondering when she'd become such a wanton, she forced herself to rein in her hormones.

They made their way back to the house in a comfortable silence. Sookie welcomed the quiet as it gave her some time to think.

A short time later they found themselves back at the house. With Sookie still a barnacle attached to his back, Eric climbed the porch steps. Sookie loosened her grip and he gradually lowered her to the porch floor, encircling his arm around her waist to steady her on her untrustworthy ankle. Eyes meeting for the first time in a while, Eric looked at her. His expression serious at first, he finally cracked a grin. He decided to play southern suitor.

"Thank you, my dear Sookie, for accompanying me," Eric continued to support her weight as they made their way into the house. "I can't remember the last time I had such an enjoyable moonlit walk."

"Yeah, I'll bet," she smiled. "Glad you thought of it."

"Me too."

**

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AN: One more chapter and Saturday is over. This was one of those chapters that required some revisions. One of my fears was that Mr. Northman's balls were missing at times, so we had to take care of that... Please read/review. Definitely appreciate the encouragement to continue. **

**:D**


	34. Just Like in Gone with the Wind

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Four: Just Like Gone with the Wind**

As the two couples opted to take the different paths around the Stackhouse property, they never encountered one another. All things considered, this was likely a good thing.

A while before Eric and Sookie made their way back to the house, JB and Tara finally made their long-awaited return. While they didn't run relay, no one sprained an ankle, and piggyback rides were not involved, they did kind of float back. Tara was giddy with happiness, and JB wasn't too far behind.

Hand-in-hand they ran up the porch steps. Bursting into the house, they realized at once that they had to share their news with someone. Tara felt like she was going to explode. JB, being a bit traditional in his disposition, figured he should say something to Jason.

Once in the house, Tara went up to Jason's room to tell him to come downstairs while JB went into the living room to pour himself a drink. Facing the bar, JB, upon hearing light footsteps behind him, turned expecting to see Tara. Only it was a different blonde's gaze that met his own.

"Listen," Pam started, "I don't know what you had going on while Tara was in New York, but you must let that…that…_Thing_…know that you and she are done. She came by with Crystal Meth and I did not appreciate the extra cleanup I had to do after they left. If any part of the heave-ho, is wishy washy—_and believe me, it's better you than me as I would definitely heave_—that ho will not be giving up. Do you understand me?"

JB—amazingly—did understand her. Apparently Tanya and Crystal paid a call while he was out proposing to Tara. Now, he was very grateful they had taken their time back. Coming back to a house full of angry Norrises would not have been the ideal way to end the day. JB nodded.

Pam smiled at him—her genuine grin, which she found herself wearing more and more. "So, is a celebration in order?" Intuitively, she knew something was up. Although she hadn't known JB long, the love struck look on the boy's face was impossible to ignore.

"Well, yeah, but let's wait a minute. Tara went to go rustle up Jason."

Once upstairs, Tara knocked on Jason's door telling him to "Come down quick if you know what's good for you!" Realizing Pam was already downstairs, Tara popped her head into Maxine's open doorway and told her to come down for a minute as there was some "big news that's gonna be announced."

A few minutes later, Jason, Pam, and Maxine sat in the living room while JB and Tara stood in front of them. As they were holding hands, Tara's newly acquired piece of jewelry wasn't easily visible—unless, of course, you had an eye trained in 'Bling-Detection.' Pam caught a glimpse of sparkle and nodded knowingly, giving Tara a wink. Tara could only beam back. Finally, Tara prodded JB, who started to speak.

"Uh, well, Jason, as the head of the family, this is really directed to you. I asked Tara to marry me tonight. And she said yes, but, of course, we'd like your blessing."

Tara, who had been beaming at JB, turned to look at her brother. Jason, meanwhile, didn't say anything. Tara, still watching her brother, waited for him to speak. Excited, Tara quickly lost what semblance of patience she had.

"Jase! For fucks sake! Say something!" Tara finally exploded.

Jason came out of his shocked stupor. "WOOHOO!" Jumped up, he grabbed Tara into a bear hug and spun her around. "Congratulations baby sister! And may I say that was some impressively quick work!"

Tara flushed at his words. "Jase, don't make it sound like that, you jackass. There was no 'work' involved," she replied heatedly.

"Aw, guess it's just natural talent, then," Jason laughed while Tara gave him an exasperated look. Throwing a meaningful glance directed towards Pam, Jason continued. "But one thing I do know. I hear through the grapevine, JB, you may have a bit of an albatross around your neck." Jason started to laugh again, looking at JB. "You may wish it were a noose, before it goes away…" Tickled at his own joke, Jason kept laughing.

JB and Tara exchanged a look. JB had already explained the Tanya situation to her. Turning to face Jason, JB gave his future brother in law the quick summary. "Listen, I dated Tanya on and off for a few weeks but it just kind of petered out. I haven't seen her in more than a month—and then it was just that I bumped into her at Merlotte's. We've exchanged two text messages —on stupid stuff. She can't possibly be thinking there's more to it than there is."

Jason shook his head, a knowing look on his face. "JB, I may have just gotten out of the Navy and I may not have had too much experience with women in the past four years but," Jason chuckled, "I got this one down: You don't underestimate a woman for being able to think more of something than there actually is. Doesn't matter if it's good or bad. Whatever it is, she'll either think it up, better or worse."

JB sighed. "Okay, well, I'll officially break things off with Tanya then."

"Don't do it here. It took me over an hour to clean up after them." Pam told him.

"Sounds like a plan," Jason, wide-eyed, shook his head at Pam. "Now with that squared away, let's go back to celebrating!" Jason walked over to the bar and started pouring shot glasses. Pam swarmed in on Tara to get a better look at the ring, while Maxine congratulated the young woman, wrapping her up in a quick embrace.

"Tara, hun, this is so wonderful." Maxine was thrilled for her friend. "It's so amazing to be here to witness it all. You—_all of you_—have really treated me like family and well, it's been a real treat for me!"

"Oh, Maxine!" It was Tara's turn to hug Maxine. "You are like family. I love having you here. And I know the kids do and Jason too. Honestly, we don't want to you leave." She turned away from Maxine to face her brother. "Right, Jase?"

Jason, having just handed drinks to Pam and JB, stood facing Tara and Maxine. He quickly realized how fucking brilliant Tara was and practically fell over himself agreeing. When opportunity knocks…

"Yeah," Jason smiled, "we sure do. We're still in the process of getting all this stuff sorted out. When all the kids' stuff arrives, we'll have even more things to sort out. Tara and I are both gonna have to find jobs." A realization dawned on Jason for the first time. "Heck, Tar, I realized I don't know where you and JB are planning to live after you get hitched?"

JB and Tara exchanged a glance. JB walked over to lay his hand on her back and draw her close to him.

"Here, Jase. We're gonna live here." JB smiled at Tara.

"Yeah, Jase, all this talk about the property and the land." Tara looked around and gestured. "It's got me thinking maybe we can just make it like a compound and add a second family house. Not right away, of course. For right now, JB and I can just take two rooms in the back wing as a bedroom and sitting room. May want to add another bath, though. And we'll both be here to help out with everything. And we'll both be around to help with the kids."

"WOOHOO!" Jason exclaimed. "Hot damn! This just gets better and better! Drink up! We got plenty of celebrating to do!"

The group discussed matters a bit more and managed to settle a few things. Maxine, as she was retired, did have flexibility with decisions. She thought she'd hang on a bit as boarder and continue on as she was, helping with the house and meals. When Jason brought up the idea of paying her, she poopooed it saying she ought to be paying them as she's been having so much fun.

With so many adults living in the house, Jason immediately felt a sense of relief over his concern that the kids wouldn't get the adult supervision they needed. At the mention of the kids, Pam took the opportunity to launch into the tale of Hotshot and fill Tara, JB, and Maxine in on the details surrounding the Norrises excuse for stopping by.

Entering the house, Eric and Sookie immediately heard the sounds of the party in the living room. Sookie looked at Eric. "Something must've happened. It's pretty late for everyone to still be up."

"Hey, y'all!" Sookie called out. Starting to walk by herself, Sookie made it a few steps before she stopped, wincing.

"Sookie," Eric came to her side. "Just lean on me. I think I can handle it." He winked at her.

_I must be crazy_, she groaned to herself. _I swear everything out of that man's mouth sounds like an innuendo to me_. _It's like he's the fortune from a Chinese fortune cookie. Just add "in bed" to every word that comes out of his mouth._

Throwing Eric a pleading look, she took the arm that he offered, and leaned heavily on him as they wandered down the hall to the living room. It was a tight family gathering that Eric and Sookie walked into; Eric walked while Sookie made her way, half-hopping, half-leaning on Eric.

While the closeness of the two latecomers to the party was largely overshadowed by the celebration, it did register significantly with two of the party revelers: Pam and Jason.

Pam carefully observed the duo's entrance. Noting Sookie's pathetic hobbling gait, Pam pondered for a moment just what Eric could've done to the girl to render her incapable of walking. Dismissing it as irrelevant, Pam just silently nodded and gave Eric an approving look. _Well done, Northman. Well done._

Jason, in the meantime, looked over at his older sister who had a distinctive tell-tale blush on her cheeks and looked out-and-out guilty! He made a military effort to keep his face expressionless. With Sookie's eyes fixed on Tara, Jason looked at Eric, who gave him a quick wink. Jason nodded in response, a slight smile on his lips.

_Woohoo, Sook_, he thought. _You go girl!_

"Hey, everybody," Sookie focused on her sister's flushed face. "What's going on?"

"Oh, Sook!" Tara launched herself at her sister. "JB asked me to marry him! We're engaged and we're gonna live here! Isn't it fantastic?"

Sookie, in shock, hugged Tara but found herself momentarily speechless. She found herself with a myriad of thoughts racing through her head.

On the one hand, she was absolutely thrilled that Tara and JB had this second chance at love and were going for it. She really did think they were perfect together. They had always had an easygoing, relaxed relationship and had seemed so content just to be together.

On the other hand, their new relationship status brought her own situation—already at the forefront of her mind—back up to the surface. Engaged to Bill, she now had 'something' going on with Eric. What it was, she wasn't quite clear on. What it meant to him, she certainly couldn't hazard a guess. Heck, she didn't even know what it meant to her, beyond the fact that she could easily get lost in his eyes and lips…

Startled harshly back to reality, Sookie realized Tara was shifting away from their hug leaving Sookie once again unsupported and attempting to stand on her all-too-sore ankle.

"Argh!" She cried in pain as she felt her ankle start to give way again. She immediately felt Eric's strong arms encircle her from behind. Without another word, he picked her up. While her arms easily went around his neck, her face blushed to the nth degree. Eric carried her to the love seat, where he gently deposited her, propping her swollen ankle up on several stacked pillows.

Their eyes meeting briefly as he positioned her leg, Sookie saw encouragement in his face as he silently conveyed that everything would be okay. Drawing calm from Eric, Sookie began to breathe again and was finally able to make out words.

"I tripped like a fool and sprained my ankle." _Really is like summer camp_, she thought ruefully. "But enough about that!" she looked at her sister. "Tara, honey, this is wonderful news! Wow! I'm so excited for you." Her eyes started to well up a bit. "Congratulations!" She looked at JB, "JB, come on down here and give your new sister a hug," she held open her arms. "Good job on the ring, too, JB. It's beautiful!"

As JB bent down to hug Sookie, it occurred to him that he couldn't recall the last time he'd smiled so much. He literally felt like he'd had a smile plastered on his face nonstop for the past three or four hours.

Eric offered the happy couple his congratulations as well. Pam quickly caught him up on everything he'd missed. Incredulous, he shook his head. Were they gone a few hours or a few days? Sensing that Sookie was a bit off since they'd come inside, he kept a watchful eye on her.

Sookie heard a lot of things being said—something about Maxine renting her house in New York and Crystal Norris stopping by, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate. In addition to the whole People's Sexiest Man Alive dilemma –_Who the hell has that on their list of 'problems'?_— Sookie was once more hit with this overwhelming sense of being written out of her family's life story. New characters were coming in. They didn't really need her; at least, they didn't need her like they used to need her.

Over the past few years, she hadn't given much thought to how much she might need them. She was too busy taking care of things to give much thought to anything but what really needed to get done. But now it was becoming obvious to her just how much she did need them. She obviously needed them more than they needed her. Heck, she might've even needed them more than she needed to be needed by them. Realizing she was having trouble deciphering her own thoughts, she gratefully accepted a shot glass from Jason. She downed her drink quickly, hoping her befuddled mental processes might make more sense with a little alcohol in her system.

Feeling sad and alone, Sookie let out a sigh. In a room filled with family, she felt alone. Feeling someone's eyes on her, Sookie looked up to meet cerulean blue eyes. Disarmed, she caught her breath. Something about the way Eric looked at her made her feel like he saw right through her. She feared they'd seen more than they should have during her moment-long pity party of feeling lonely. For a moment she panicked, desperately afraid of what her eyes might have conveyed to him in that unguarded moment.

But he was either oblivious to her fear or he didn't want to acknowledge it or he didn't care. It didn't stop him from coming to her. He crouched down in front of her, meeting her eyes. He lightly grazed her hand with his own.

"Hey. How's the ankle? Need an icepack?"

Sookie stared at him and wondered again just what had happened that night and just what she was supposed to do. She knew she needed to respond to his question but she was pretty much speechless again. Unbothered, Eric grinned easily at her. He turned his attention to her leg, moving her pant leg up to inspect her swollen ankle. He touched her foot in a couple of spots, watching her face to gauge the extent to which his probes caused her pain.

_He seems to like to play doctor_, Sookie mused.

Satisfied that her injury was nothing more than the sprain they had initially deduced, Eric stood up.

"I'll be back with the icepack, lo—" at Sookie's startled wide-open eyes Eric stopped, feeling chagrined. "Sookie."

With Sookie settled on the loveseat, the others eventually sat down as well. Jason and Tara took turns playing bartender as the group continued their celebration. After a while, the consensus was that it finally seemed to be time for bed and everyone started exchanging 'good nights.' Jason was considering offering to carry Sookie upstairs, but held off on the chance that Eric would step in.

Sookie, examining her still-swollen ankle, was thinking that walking all the way upstairs to her room would not be a smart thing to do if she hoped to be quickly on her feet again.

Eric appeared standing over her then. "Sookie."

She looked up at him. Amazingly, she realized she knew exactly what he was thinking. She nodded, a slight smile on her face.

Wordlessly, Eric bent down to lift her. Again, without further thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He stood up. While the ease of Eric and Sookie's previous interaction had piqued only Pam and Jason's interest, this display caught everyone's attention. But not in a bad way.

As Eric carried her up the stairs like Scarlett O'Hara, Sookie tried to block from her mind the fact that she was the center of attention. Sensing her stress, Eric tried to tease her out of it. Grinning at her, he observed that it was "Just like in _Gone With The Wind_." He gave her a devastating wink.

At his mention of one of her favorite movie scenes of all time, Sookie felt herself melt. It was a good thing he held her so solidly; if she weren't already lying in his arms, she was sure she would've fallen in a heap.

_Yep_, she swallowed. _I'm in big trouble. And tomorrow Bill's getting in from Dallas. Oh, yeah. Big, big trouble._

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AN: Saturday...is...finally... _over_. I know! You're all anxiously looking forward to Bill's arrival. He gets there on Sunday. But the fun really starts with breakfast on Monday! And by fun, I mean FUN! Thanks for reading/reviewing!**

**:D**


	35. Who's EyeFucking Who?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Five: Who's Eyefucking Who?**

Sunday…in Bon Temps.

The next morning Sookie woke up feeling strange. Lying in her old bed in her old bedroom, she glanced up at the familiar walls thinking they somehow looked different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was definitely off. Something big.

Tired and a little tipsy the night before, she'd fallen asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately, she'd woken up in the middle of the night, her ankle throbbing. Unable to get comfortable for the rest of the night, her sleep had been fitful.

Finally, dawn arrived. Resisting it, she groaned unhappily and buried her head under the pillow. Having only slept about four hours, her head felt fuzzy. She didn't even think she'd slept long enough to process the previous day's events into her long-term memory.

To test her inadequate sleep theory, she decided she'd make a mental list of everything that had happened since Friday.

Item 1: They're all home.

Item 2: JB and Tara are engaged.

Item 3: They've somehow acquired three new family members.

Item 4: She herself seemed to have one man too many.

_Yep, that's everything. I guess my memory's okay, but the rest of my head needs to be examined. _

As she lay there, she toyed with just staying in bed and letting everything and everyone get sorted without her. All things considered, she hardly thought anyone could blame her for wanting to remain in bed. Her life had taken a turn on Ridiculous and just kept going. Now it was well past Ridiculous, maybe even Absurd.

After slowly and carefully showering and dressing, heavily favoring her uninjured foot, Sookie made her way downstairs. Walking gingerly, she took turns leaning on the stair rails and doorjambs.

She smiled wryly to herself. _If I thought there was a chance last night was a dream, this sore ankle pretty much takes care of that_.

Upon entering the kitchen Sookie was not surprised to see Pam already busy at work on breakfast despite the early hour (just shy of 7:30 am). She was, however, surprised to see Eric there.

Eric, his arms crossed, was leaning against the kitchen counter next to Pam. Sookie was quick to note his wardrobe: a pair of painted-on jeans; a European soccer t-shirt that made a poor effort at containing his muscles; and flip-flops. His immediately raised his eyes to meet hers.

_Don't stare at his arms_, she instructed herself.

"Good morning, Pam. Eric," Sookie nodded politely with a shy smile.

Pam turned away from the sink with a grin. "Good morning, Sookie." Although her tone was polite, almost demure, Pam's eyes were dancing.

Eric said nothing; he just kept staring at Sookie. Sookie, for her part, was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"How is your ankle?" Eric finally asked.

"Um." Sookie, meanwhile, still found herself slightly taken aback by what she was seeing in Eric's eyes. "Good. Much better. I don't think it's a full-on sprain. Being off it for a bit seems to have helped."

Not able to—_and not really wanting to_—Sookie hesitated to pull her gaze away from Eric. Somewhat startled by the pure desire visible on his face, Sookie felt her face redden. Eric was totally and completely eye-fucking her. Watching him stare at her, she saw his look of primal want supplanted by a look of delighted amusement. Finally, she tore her eyes from his. Knowing that _that_ would not do, she improvised an excuse to talk to him.

"Eric, can you come with me to the living room for a moment? I'd like to discuss insurance matters related to the incident with Amelia and your Corvette." Fixing her eyes on him, she tried to keep her face expressionless for Pam's benefit.

Pam, of course, knew everything that was going on, despite Eric's resolve not to discuss it. She knew him too well. Just as she was beginning to know Sookie. Finding herself particularly pleased with the evolving situation, she smiled. She liked it when 'her' people entertained her. She thought the Barracuda and the Viking showed promise; she had faith that they could amuse her for many years to come. Like Hasselhoff.

Knowing this was a made-up excuse to be alone, Eric silently applauded Sookie's ingenuity. He replied, in an all-too-serious tone. "Yes. I imagine we have some _matters_ to discuss on that issue."

Without another word, Eric followed Sookie into the living room. At the doorway, he entered the room first, leaving her to shut the door. With her back to him, Sookie was caught by surprise when he gently pushed her body into the door, his fingertips dancing along the exposed flesh of her arms, his lips descending on her neck and shoulders.

Sookie moaned softly as she felt Eric's hands pass over her, his lips and warm breath tracing an electric current along her skin. Too caught up to protest, Sookie surrendered to Eric's claims on her body. Finally, her brain put a damper on things. Turning and twisting, she ducked out of his vice-like grip. Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Sookie half-hopped, half-hobbled over to the glass doors that opened out to the wraparound porch. She jerkily pulled the curtains closed. Again, Eric was right behind her, his ever-busy hands exploring, his lips nuzzling.

"Excellent idea, lover. Let's lock the door too to make sure we're not disturbed."

Battling an impulse to say "Okay!", Sookie's ego and id duked it out.

_Ah…get on with it, Sookie_! "No! Stop it, Eric!" Sookie pushed him away with a fierce whisper and turned to face him. "Listen, I'm not sure what this is," she gestured with her hand pointing between the two of them. "But everyone in this house knows I'm engaged to Bill Compton and I don't want to send the wrong message. Especially not to the kids."

Sobering up quickly, Eric took a step back. What? "So, you are still planning to marry Bill?"

"I didn't say that," she hedged, glancing around nervously. "But I'm still technically engaged and I'm not breaking up with him over the phone. So, here, in this house, with my younger brothers and sisters around, I can't have them seeing us together and getting the wrong idea."

Smiling wryly, Eric lifted his eyebrow challenging the last part of Sookie's comment.

"Okay, okay. Right idea." Grinning ruefully, she corrected herself. "But the timing's not right. It's not fair to Bill. I need to talk to him in person and he's coming out here today. So, this should be resolved quickly. But you've got to cool your spurs! You were practically eye-fucking me back there in the kitchen."

"Nothing 'practically' about it, lover. I was most definitely eye-fucking you in the kitchen."

Sookie sucked in a breath. "Well, keep your eyes to yourself, buddy. I can't be running interference with you because you're gonna stare at me all day like a dog in heat!"

"Sookie, you have a dog. You know dogs in heat do not limit themselves to staring." Eric just looked at her, smiling.

"What? Stop it! Eric! You're doing it again!" Sookie, outraged, glared at him.

Eric shook his head, continuing to smile. "Sookie, I'm just looking at you. There is nothing untoward about how I am looking at you at the moment, lover. If you think I'm eye-fucking you, perhaps it is you who are projecting," he suggested.

Sookie, shocked, let out a gasp. "Hold on, there! You talk to me like the lady I am. I am not projecting! I do not eyefuck! It's you!"

Eric just continued to grin, pretending to consider the matter. Finally, he decided to make it easier on her.

"For the sake of keeping the peace, I will accept that my desire for you is such," Eric paused to enjoy the pink flush creeping along her neck and cheeks, "that I am unable to control my body's response to your presence. I offer you many apologies, angelic Sookie, vision of love and beauty." With a flourish Eric lifted one of her hands to his lips and, turning it over, placed a lingering kiss on the inside of her palm. She shivered. "I assure you I shall do all within my power to refrain from giving you such looks in the future."

As he spoke, Eric brought his eyes up to her face. Studying her, he noted that Sookie's eyes were closed and her features held a look of tranquil ecstasy. At the last part of his speech, he detected a slight downturn at her lips. _Guess you don't like that idea as much as you thought you would, dearest_, he smiled to himself.

Suddenly her eyes flew open and they were staring at one another. Thoughtful, Sookie came to a decision.

"Pretty words. Okay, I accept your apology. But please remember to behave yourself." She leaned into his side, intending only to give him only a quick kiss on the cheek. But he turned suddenly, capturing her lips. Bringing a hand up to gently hold her head still, he refused to let her break the kiss.

Again caught off-guard, Sookie found it very difficult to put Eric off. She found it damn near impossible, in fact. Pulling herself away from the kiss required every ounce of will power she could muster. Finally, she collected herself. She couldn't resist a snarky comment.

"They teach you that in Hollywood?"

"No, lover. I learned that at summer camp," Eric replied, winking at her.

Rolling her eyes, Sookie grinned. Finally, pulling herself away, she indicated her need to leave. "I'm gonna go take care of …some… stuff." She turned to make her way toward the door.

Eric put his hands lightly on her shoulders and turned her back around to face him.

"Yes, lo-" at the look on her face, he stopped. "Yes, Sookie. We'll put this insurance discussion on hold for the moment. I am thinking that if it were to give me unfettered access to you, I would happily sue you to recover the costs of repairing my Corvette. Perhaps, the judge will decree you become my love slave in recompense for the damages."

Sookie's eyes widened at his words. He seemed to have a one-track mind. But at least he was creative.

"You're really something else, you know that?" Sookie replied, shaking her head.

"Let's just say I can be very determined when it comes to things I'm sure of."

Sookie's smile faded into a more serious, speculative look. She searched his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

Eric took her hand in his. Intertwining their fingers, he lightly massaged her palm with his thumb. Sookie felt it all the way down to her core; she shivered.

Slowly, too slowly, Eric leaned down to speak softly in her ear. "That's how I know. Trust me." His words were like a caress. She felt her heart skip a beat as he nuzzled her neck. Letting out a breathless moan, she suddenly was afraid she'd lose more control than she had already.

_Yep_, she confirmed, _this is trouble. Big trouble. Big…wonderful?...trouble_.

Whatever it was, she needed to get out of that room. She needed to get away from Eric. He was sensation overload; his hands, lips, even just his eyes on her made her feel too many things, made her forget too many things. It would be damn near impossible to act normally in front of everyone, if she didn't have some time to cool off. But…Bill would be arriving at some point…then…what?

"I really have to ...a...go do something—" Undeterred, Eric continued to nibble at her neck and shoulder. Feeling the heat of his lips on her, Sookie's eyes closed in pleasure. Finally, she seemed to come to some internal decision. Surprising Eric, she ran her fingers through his hair and suddenly brought his face up to hers, drawing his lips to her own waiting parted lips. The kiss seemed to go on forever. Sookie felt dizzy. Eric felt glorious. Finally, they both pulled away, leaving only their foreheads still pressed together.

"Yes, lover," Eric said. His words were followed by a guttural sound. Sookie looked at him questioningly. She didn't remember asking a question. Eric grinned. "We'll have plenty of time later to discuss the litigation and my payment."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, smiling. "_Right_. Later, all right. Much, _much_ later."

With that, Sookie finally extricated herself from Eric's embrace and turned to make her way out of the living room. Her hand on the doorknob, she stopped. Facing the door, her back was to Eric. "Eric, Bill will be here today. Please be…" she stopped. Honestly, she had no idea what she wanted to say. "Please be…honorable …towards him. I know it'll be weird," at this she turned to give Eric an over-the-shoulder glance. "But weird doesn't have to be mean and ugly, you know?"

_Hmmm_, Eric thought. _Honorable?_

Figuring she had accomplished what she'd set out to do—and scored some hot moments in the mix —Sookie, after one last look at Eric, went to go rejoin Pam in the kitchen. Notwithstanding the woman's apparent stronghold on meal preparation, Sookie was determined to contribute something to that morning's breakfast. Maybe Pam would let her make the coffee. Or maybe she could be responsible for the toast. She wanted desperately to focus her mind on something mundane for a while.

Left alone in the living room, Eric ran his fingers through his hair. The fucked up nature of the situation he found himself in was slowly becoming apparent to him. Rational and pragmatic—Eric quickly broke it down to the major points.

Point 1: Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter had asked him to flirt with Sookie and were expecting to see him do so. Especially in light of Bill's imminent arrival, they were counting on him to cast some doubts on their sister's relationship. They, as they put it, wanted Eric to force Bill to show his true colors.

Point 2: While he seemed to have made significant progress with Sookie, she wanted their liaison to remain a secret until she's had an opportunity to speak with Bill. Eric hoped this talk with Bill would remove Bill from the scene quickly and painlessly. But Eric was not confident about that. He could tell Sookie was not yet comfortable with the idea of _them_. Eric wished he had more time to allow their relationship to evolve naturally, but unfortunately Bill was set to arrive at some point that day. If Sookie didn't call things off with Bill today, Eric was concerned that she'd have second thoughts.

Point 3: If he continued his assignment under Operation: Douche Bag Removal, he risked alienating Sookie. Anything he did that could be perceived as "baiting" Bill, she would read as him deliberately dismissing her specific request that he be "honorable." Eric couldn't help but grin as he recalled her delightfully Southern belle word choice.

Point 4: If he didn't continue his assignment, he would disappoint the kids. Obviously, not as significant as upsetting Sookie, but undesirable just the same. There was also the added question of what exactly the kids might do if their plan to have him flirt with their sister didn't move forward. What, if anything, was their Plan B? Eric figured Pam new more about this...

Eric was wondering how things had gotten so complicated. Everything had been pretty straightforward, sailing along smoothly, if slowly. All he needed to do was watch and wait for his opportunities with Sookie.

But, he reminded himself: Bill was always an unknown part of the equation. Regardless of any promises made to the kids, he inevitably would've found himself in this predicament. Bill, the fiancé, was set to arrive. Today. Eric would have to act accordingly.

As for how to proceed with Sookie, Eric could come clean about the plot but he didn't want to cast any doubts that his interest in her was anything but genuine. How she could possibly think anything else was beyond Eric, but he wouldn't put it past her to look for an excuse to call into question his sincerity and just accuse him of being a good actor. So he refused to assume his coming clean about the kids' plot would be without ramifications.

He could tell the kids that he'd made progress with Sookie but she wanted everything to remain a secret for the time being. He couldn't help but recognize the fact that secrets and kids don't always go well together. If conversations with the kids got back to Sookie, well, that might not go over very well.

No, he would have to tell Sookie the truth. It was the only way. He would have to trust that she would understand and would not view his involvement in the kids' plan as anything other than what it was: an enthusiastic and willing response to the encouragement of her siblings to pursue a woman he was already smitten with.

But, what if she reacted badly to learning about this plot? What if she was so angered she decided to give the Douche Bag a second chance in light of the machinations afoot to oust him? What if Barracuda Sookie decided everyone — including himself — needed to be punished for bad behavior?

It was barely 8:00 am and Eric wanted nothing more than a stiff drink. He needed help sorting this mess out.

_Pam_, he thought. _I really need to discuss this with Pam._

That would have to wait. She'd be busy playing Martha Stewart for at least another two hours. After breakfast, he'd get her and together they'd figure out his next steps.

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**AN: I know this may seem strange but actually this is how most Americans spend Sunday morning -arguing over eye-fucking (Fellow Americans, play along; we have a rep for being sexually repressed!) **

**Anyway... Monday's Breakfast with Bill is right around the corner, and by right around the corner I mean 20 chapters away! HA-HA! The good thing is we're getting to the chapters NOT based on the Cadell book. Once I started making up original storyline arcs, I felt more comfortable writing the characters. I expect the posts to go quicker because there will be less revisions. Thanks for reading/reviewing!**

**:D**


	36. That Thing Owes Me A Pair of Pumps

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Six: That Thing Owes Me A Pair of Pumps**

A little less than an hour later, Eric and Sookie found themselves at breakfast with the rest of the household. Just when one would've thought the household couldn't possibly get any bigger, the announcement was made that it had.

JB was there for breakfast as he'd stayed over with Tara. Not only did the kids respond enthusiastically to the news that JB was joining the family, but they also seemed unsurprised.

Indeed, they weren't. It hadn't taken them long to see which way the wind was blowing. They'd actually taken bets on how long it would take for JB and Tara to get it together.

Mouthing the words "I win," Amelia, smirking at her brothers, found herself $50 richer before breakfast. Amelia, having age as an advantage, as well as, perhaps, her dual interest in XX and XY, had deduced it would be quick, telling her brothers unequivocally, "I say they're engaged before Douche Bag gets here."

The two boys, unaccustomed to relationship matters moving that quickly, had laughed at her. They had spent the past year watching Aunt Linda trying to get Old Felipe to fold, all her efforts going nowhere. They exchanged a surprised look. Well, hell…

Tara and JB continued to ride their high, barely able to take their eyes off one another. Pam and Maxine were busy getting breakfast on the table. Jason was wearing a big grin. Only Sookie seemed a bit out of sorts, her mind preoccupied with something. Her siblings were oblivious, still caught up in the news of Tara and JB's engagement, but the three honorary Stackhouses were aware of it and exchanged knowing glances. Only one knew exactly what had her so preoccupied. Eric made a determined effort to not cause Sookie further discomfort by sending too many glances her way.

Pam, in the meantime, kept gazing speculatively at Eric trying to discern what exactly had transpired between him and Sookie the previous night. Never one to kiss and tell, Pam was usually able to get more out of Eric about his conquests. Pam could only deduce that the Barracuda scored higher than a mere "conquest," which Pam had pretty much figured anyway. It would be interesting to observe Eric in a relationship. While they had been friends a long time, Eric had spent most of that time focused exclusively on his career. It was only in the past few years, since he'd turned thirty, that he'd allowed himself to relax a bit, and he finally seemed more open to the idea of a relationship. Of course, his annoying Scandinavian sensibilities pretty much made him much too rational for most of the head-cases in Hollywood. Pam frowned. _So, we had to export a head-case from Podunk? _She wondered.

"Hey, JB, you gonna live here with us now?" This from Hunter.

"Yeah, after the wedding," JB looked up at Tara with a smile. "Tara and I will be living here."

"Cool," Hoyt replied.

"Yeah," Hunter agreed, nodding. "We need as many folks here as we can. Gotta keep an eye on that fuckwad Cal Myers."

Ah-hah. Jason looked up at Hunter and then his eyes went around the table. Maxine was dishing out eggs, while Pam was adding seasoning to the hash browns.

"Okay, Hunt." Jason looked at Hunter, Hoyt and Ame in turn. "Cal Myers' mother and sister stopped by here last night. They were not happy about your little visit to Hotshot. And I'm saying again: we need to make this right."

The three youngest Stackhouses exchanged guilty looks. Finally, Amelia spoke. "Jase, I'll apologize to the little asshole. I'll tell him I was only pretending," Ame smiled. "I know I wasn't but I'll reverse the spell. How about I put a new spell that if he breaks into the tree house again, like a fucking squirrel," Ame started to laugh, "he'll lose his nuts." Amelia's last words were nearly lost to her peals of laughter, quickly echoed by Hoyt and Hunter.

Proud that Amelia's knee-jerk reaction to idiots was to castrate them, Pam smiled an appreciative "that's my girl," grin, while Jason couldn't help but shake his head. Eric kept his face immobile, while Maxine's eyes widened and her mouth opened silently to an "O". Sookie, however, was startled out of her reverie by the combination of Amelia's rant and the kids' laughter.

"Amelia Adele Stackhouse, what the hell are you going on about?" Sookie's eyes were flashing.

Pam's smile of appreciation—now directed at Sookie — widened and she sought eye contact with Eric. Nodding at him, she raised her brows. Her look said: "See? See what you could have?" Eric kept his gaze off Pam as best he could, instead focusing on Sookie.

"Well, Sook, Cal broke into the tree house and graffitied it. That's why Jase, Eric and Hunt were painting yesterday. So we went to Hotshot—we got a lift from Terry —"

"What? Yesterday?"

"Yeah."

Sookie paused and attempted to take a deep calming breath. This is where they disappeared to when they went for their 'walk,' she thought. Bracing herself, she asked the question that begged to be asked.

"Ame, what did you guys do in Hotshot?"

"I put a spell on Cal that at the next full moon, he'd transform into his true form. Kid's an idiot. He shows that every day. Couldn't wait to see what else he might be," she snorted. "Anyway, he's all scared now and his mom and sister came by last night to yell at us."

"What? Crystal Norris and Tanya Grissom were here?" Sookie turned to face Jason. "Jase? You talk to them?"

Jason met Sookie's gaze. "No, Sook. I did not speak with them."

"What? Who talked to them then?" Someone cleared their throat across from her. Sookie looked around the table. Pam. Uh-oh. Jesus H. Christ.

"Sookie," Pam smiled. "I had the pleasure of speaking with the lovely mother-daughter-sister-cousin team."

Sookie frowned at Pam whose smile just widened in response. Sookie wasn't ready to go there yet. "Jase,why the heck didn't you talk with them?" She gave her brother an irritated glare.

Jason, taking a lesson from Eric, kept his gaze stone-faced. Before Jason had a chance to say anything, Pam started to explain.

"Sookie, they asked to speak with you. You were not here," Pam gestured with her hand towards Eric. "I believe you were engaged in some physical activity with Eric." Pam could practically see steam pouring out of the Barracuda's ears. "I informed them of your absence and they did not ask to speak to anyone else. They did seem very interested in JB's car, however. The younger one thought it appropriate to conduct a search of the house. I informed them this was inappropriate and I politely asked them to leave."

Pam smiled sweetly. Sookie shook her head.

"Uh-huh," Sookie glared at Pam. "Why do I think there's more to this story?"

Contemplating, Pam looked at Sookie and then quirked her head.

"Well, as a matter of fact, there is more now that you mention it," she paused, nodding her head. "That _Thing_ owes me a pair of pumps," Pam sullenly reported.

"What?" Sookie exclaimed, exasperation clearly ringing in her voice. "Why the _hell_ does Crystal Norris owe you a pair of _shoes_, Pam?"

"Not that Thing. The other Thing. She grazed my heel with her Podunk flip-flop. It was filthy." Pam made a face, scrunching her nose.

Sookie closed her eyes and took a few slow deep breaths, trying to get her temper in check. _What the fuck?_

Sookie finally opened her eyes and looked at Pam.

Pam eyes never left Sookie's. Pam shrugged.

Sookie really did not like not being the one in charge. That alone was bad enough. But now…now, she was not even being kept 'in the know.' She goes with Eric for a walk and comes back with a sprained ankle, a new 'lover' interest, and the 'extended family' having run amok in her absence. And Pam—_PAM_!—is the family spokesperson. Time to regain her lost footing.

'Okay," Barracuda Sookie, reporting to duty, turned her attention away from the thirty-something child and back to the three under fourteen. "So, the three of you—after I yelled at you the night before for running away—hitched a ride to Hotshot, a strange place where you don't know anyone. Amelia put a spell on Cal Myers and then you hitched a ride home. _Am I missing something_?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she looked at the three kids.

The kids looked at one another. Technically, it was accurate.

"Tell me why I shouldn't be putting the three of you in boarding school right now?" Sookie's eyes were ice as she leveled them at the three of them. "Honestly, you seem to be hell-bent on doing what you want. You seem to have forgotten you're 11, 12, and 13, for fucks sake."

Another throat was cleared. Sookie looked over. This time it was Jason. "Sook, I spoke with them yesterday. We left it with they are apologizing to Cal. Ame's lifting her curse —" Seeing Amelia's hand suddenly waving around frantically, Jason quickly revised his statement. "Er…spell,not curse, and we're installing a security camera to make sure no one breaks into the tree house. If someone does, we're gonna give the tape to Sheriff Dearborn and press charges." Jason's tone was final. As far as he was concerned, the matter was, if not fully closed, then at least somewhat resolved.

"But, Jase," Sookie wasn't about to give up. "They hitched a ride. Again. These kids are gonna get themselves hurt the way they keep pulling this shit."

"Well," Jason nodded at Sookie, "you bring up a good point. We need to get their bikes back here pronto so they can get around on their own again. As for yesterday, they called Terry Bellefleur for a ride. They knew better than to get in any strange cars." Jason looked at his younger siblings, giving them a 'seriously, do not screw this up' look. "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah!" This from Hoyt.

"No way were we gonna do that again!" This from Hunter.

"Yes. Besides, I'll be able to drive in a couple of years. Legally, that is." Amelia threw a satisfied look over to Sookie.

Sookie, biting her lower lip, looked thoughtfully at the kids. Terry…apology…bikes… Finally she spoke. "So, you got the part about no more riding with strangers, then?"

"Yes!" This from Hunter.

"Yes'm." This from Hoyt.

"Yeah," Amelia. "Got it. Check."

"You understand just how fucking bad it will be for you if you do that one more time, right?" Sookie's voice was steel. The three kids just nodded. "Amelia, no more spells on people?" Sookie threw her younger sister a direct look.

"Yes, Sookie. I mean no, Sookie. No spells on people." Amelia responded automatically; she thought she sounded whipped. _Fuck, how does Sook do that_? she thought.

"So, we'll be getting the kids' bikes with the rest of their stuff. Ame needs a new cell phone. We need to get one for Hunter, too," she smiled at her youngest brother, whose face broke into the biggest grin.

"Thanks Sook!" Hunter jumped out of his seat and ran to where Sookie sat and threw her arms around her in a hug.

Hugging Hunter back, Sookie smiled. She did like being in charge.

"As for yesterday, I guess no-harm, no-foul. We need to figure out how we're going to make this all work." More than one person seated at the table raised their brows at her words. Sookie was definitely not talking like someone who was planning on going back to Dallas in two weeks. "We should be grateful for small favors. Speaking of…" Sookie turned to Pam. "Pam, I must thank you and apologize."

Eric let out a breath. Pam kept her face a mask.

"Those Norris's are the nastiest family in Renard Parish," Sookie continued. "I am grateful to you for dealing with them, and also sorry you had the displeasure of meeting them and that Tanya…er…damaged your shoe. As for their relation," Sookie snorted a laugh, "they are mother-daughter, that's a definite. Anything else is purely conjecture."

Pam smiled. Hearing Sookie laugh set Eric at ease. Really, Sookie's suddenly much-lightened mood affected all of them. In a good way.

At a loud buzzing, everyone started. JB grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. Flipping it open, he read the text that just came in. A big smile played across his face.

"Hey," he looked at Tara, and then around the table. "Barbecue at the DuRones today."

The kids promptly started high-fiving and screeching.

"Your folks still got the pool, don't they, JB?" Hoyt asked.

"Yeah, still got the pool and the deck," JB nodded.

"Oh," Tara clasped her hands together. "Nice! Fun! Like old times. Did you tell them?"

"Tara," JB started to laugh, "it's more like did they tell me. They knew this would happen before I did. I sent a text that I asked and you said 'yes,' and my mom's response was 'wow, your dad and I should've bet on it because I would've won.' Apparently my dad thought I'd let my pride keep me from asking you for at least a week …" JB and Tara both laughed and Tara reached out and took his free hand in hers. "But my mom knew better." JB kissed Tara's hand.

Sookie smiled and looked down at her plate. _This situation just keeps happening, doesn't it? _She looked up to find Eric's eyes on her. Not wanting to encourage any of that, she ignored him and turned her gaze to JB.

"JB, what time your folks expecting us?" she asked. "And are they aware of how many we have in the household these days?" Sookie still couldn't believe it herself.

"Yeah," JB nodded. "They met everyone yesterday. Ma said 3 o'clock, but I'm sure she won't be upset if we show up early."

"Um, okay," Sookie, thinking, made a face. "Bill is coming today. This afternoon. I may have to hang out here a bit, depending on when he's supposed to arrive. Not a problem. We'll work it out."

At being reminded of Bill's imminent arrival, Eric looked like someone had thrown cold water on his face. A few of those around the table shared the same hit-in-the-face-with-reality expression.

The sour looks weren't lost on Sookie as she glanced around the table. And she had no illusions as to the cause of the sudden shift in the room. No one, it seemed, wanted Bill there.

_Bill_, Sookie thought, _you have no idea what you're in for._

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**AN: I didn't really change this chappie much. In general, I think my dialogue chapters are okay, while my internal thoughts chapters kinda flounder. Hmmm...**

**Anyway... I'm really trying to step this up. Believe me! It occurred to me last night that in this fic, I torment Bill. In "Oh No! Vampire Bill!" I kill him. In "The Dead Man", I just sent him to Peru so I didn't have to be bothered with him. Oh, and in my new fic, "Your Autumn Moon" which is like 12K words in (maybe a third), it didn't even occur to me write him in. LOLS...**

**Thanks for reading/reviewing! New readers, Re-readers, your interest is keeping me on task! THANK YOU! **

**:D**


	37. Bill on the Phone, Part 2

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Bill on the Phone, Part 2**

Sunday afternoon…on an interstate connecting Texas and Louisiana…

Bill Compton left Dallas slightly later than he had originally intended. Several articles he was co-authoring required his attention. Initially he thought he'd have the entire month to finalize his edits, but with this unexpected trip to Louisiana, his schedule was a total mess. Not only was he making the trip, he didn't know how long his presence would be required to help Sookie in dealing with her family. There was also the matter of her family's farm. Honestly, he preferred it just got sold. He could see the writing on the wall that—if the house remained in the family—he, Bill Compton, eventually would be asked to financially assist with the house's upkeep.

Bill found the whole situation greatly vexing. He especially did not appreciate how it had crept up on him in the manner that it had. He couldn't help but think that if only Sookie had had more control over things, if only she had handled it better from the outset, it would not have exploded into a last-minute chaotic mess that now required his presence to resolve.

Sigh. Sookie.

When Bill had originally met his blonde fiancée ten months before, he had been utterly charmed by her Southern belle act. Not to mention her sweet accent. Luscious lips. Feminine shape. Lovely hair and luminous blue eyes. All round, she was quite pretty. Maybe not beautiful, maybe not a perfect 10. She seemed to have not jumped on the exercise craze and was always playing with ten pounds on the scale. Despite this, she was still quite pretty. Definitely a solid 8. When winning the battle of the bulge, she crept to a near 9 if not an actual 9. Yes, definitely her looks contributed quite a bit to her ability to reel him in all right.

He was also taken with her intelligence—she was indisputably smart. She was definitely the most skilled writer on that hack magazine she wrote for. Although, truth be told, that wasn't saying much given the fact that her coworkers were quite limited in their intelligence and cognitive abilities. Sookie did have a refreshingly succinct way of getting to the point. She was very skillful in dissecting important and often complex socioeconomic matters, and explaining them in a manner that any twelve year old could understand. This was very good as most Americans read at a twelve-year-old level. Bill wrote mostly for academic economic journals and contributed to text books, but it was important that there were people—like Sookie—who could translate important ideas and concepts so that common Americans could understand them. Lord knows, he could not be the one to do so. He barely read that magazine she wrote for, it was so…trite and simplistic. But he did read her columns once in a while and he made a point of mentioning it to her when he did so she knew he supported her continued efforts.

Pretty…bright…Sookie. Yes, the way Bill perceived it her one flaw—and it was a considerable one—was her temper. Beware not to rile her as below the surface lay a fierce and cutting temper. She had a sly wit that could cut one to the quick, if provoked. And the cussing. You would think she was the one who had spent the past four years in the Navy rather than her brother Jason, as she definitely had the vocabulary of a drunken sailor.

Then, of course, there was her family. The Stackhouses. They also presented a potential problem. As long as Bill had known Sookie, the Stackhouses had been separated. Dispersed. Jason in the military. Tara in New York. Amelia at boarding school. The two boys living with the aunt in San Antonio. Frankly, Bill wanted that house in Bon Temps sold. Aside from the financial drain that it would inevitably represent to him, it was preferable that the family be separated. As long as everyone was scattered and there was no home, per se, there would be no competing pull toward any one place. There would be no compulsion pulling Sookie away from him.

He had encouraged Sookie heartily on her idea to sell the house. Bill did not like the fact that Sookie still seemed to battle internally with regret and fear that the decision to sell was a mistake. If, for some reason, the Stackhouse Farm was not sold, Bill knew there would be a part of Sookie that would hold onto this idea of Bon Temps being 'home.' And Bill could not have that. While Dallas was good for them now, Bill was actually looking to make the move back up to Connecticut at some point, hopefully some time soon. He hadn't actually mentioned it to Sookie yet, but he figured there'd be plenty of time to discuss what he had planned after they married. As long as the Stackhouse Farm was sold, and everyone was scattered across the country, Bill would not have to compete with anyone else for Sookie's attention. And he could return to the northeast and get away from this dreadful heat of Dallas. As well as the cowboys and simple country folks.

Ah, to be back in New England. And near his lovely, elegant mother, Lorena Ball Compton. Bill was happily contemplating his eventual return to the land of snow, liberals, and true intellectuals when his cell phone rang. Glancing down he saw his fiancée's name show up on the screen.

"Hello darling. How are you?"

_Hi Bill. You never called to let me know what time you'd be getting here. Are you almost here?_

"No, sorry darling. I actually only just left about 15 minutes ago. In fact I still have to stop for gas and my car ride refreshments."

_Well, why didn't you call to let me know?... The DuRones are having a barbeque and I stuck around the house figuring you'd be arriving any minute because you said you'd be here this afternoon. I guess I should've just gone with everyone._

"Well, its not too late, is it? Why don't you just go?"

_Well, for one thing, I let them take my car since I figured you'd get here shortly and we could just turnaround and go in your car._

Sookie paused and he could hear her take a breath. She spoke again.

_You know what? It's fine. Not a big deal. I'll just call over there and have someone pick me up._

"Good. I am happy that that is resolved. See? No need to get upset. I didn't call but it really didn't affect your plans."

Bill really wanted to train Sookie out of this bad habit of hers of getting overly frustrated with him at the littlest things, like not calling. He was also working on training her to not talk to him from a different room in the house. He did not believe in 'shouting' from one room to another. Whenever he heard her calling out to him from a different room, he would stop what he was doing and make a big production of going to her and saying, 'Yes? In your inside voice, please?'"

Back in the present, Bill heard Sookie sigh.

_Sure, Bill. It's fine. Like I said. Anyway, I'm sitting here by myself in the house and everyone's over at the Du Rones enjoying the pool. So, I think I'll say goodbye now and see about joining them. Give me a call when you're about a half hour away and I'll get someone to drop me back at the house. We'll get you settled in and then maybe head back to the DuRones if you feel up to it and there's any food left._

Bill doubted he'd want to spend time at a poolside barbeque with all the townspeople of Bon Temps, but he didn't think Sookie would respond favorably to him expressing that opinion right then. He figured it would be smarter to just agree to go for now and inform her later that he was too tired to go.

"Of course, darling. That sounds delightful." One thing was still playing at his mind. He decided he would ask. "Sookie, is that Northman still around?"

Sookie did not answer right away.

_Yes, Bill, I told you last time we spoke that Jason pretty much invited them all to stay on a while longer._

"Oh, well, Sookie," Bill's voice had a tight quality to it. "I don't like it. I don't like him there in the house with you."

Bill heard Sookie sigh over the phone. But she didn't say anything. Still silence.

"Sookie? Don't you have anything to say? You know it's not good manners to just ignore me. If you have something to say, I'd appreciate it if you would just say it."

_No, Bill. Honestly, I don't really have anything to say to you on this matter. We've already discussed it. I've already told you Jason invited them all to stay. For whatever reason, you seem to have a problem with the idea of Eric Northman being in the house. Uh…and I don't have anything else to say on the matter right now._

Sookie's calm response had Bill nonplussed. This reaction wasn't like her. Normally, Sookie would jump down his throat for not trusting her, for thinking her incapable of handling unwanted advances, for implying that she was powerless. But, now, she responded with nothing.

Why?

"Sookie, has something happened? Has that…actor…made an inappropriate advance on you? Has he said something inappropriate? Sookie, I wish you had had the common sense to just listen to me when last we spoke—"

Bill could hear Sookie suck in a breath on the other end of the phone.

"Sookie, I told you I did not trust him around you and now it seems that I have had good cause to feel that way. I refrained from instructing you to tell him to leave your house—"

Again there was a gasp from the other end of the line.

"because I do not believe it's a man's responsibility to tell his woman what to do. Against my better judgment, I thought it important to demonstrate to you that I trusted you, and had trust in your judgment. I should have known, after the house situation, that that could well be a mistake. But, if you have allowed the situation to get out of hand—"

He heard another sharp intake of breath across the phone line.

" and if Eric Northman has done or said something untoward towards my fiancé, I must know this. So, will you please tell me what is going on at Camp Stackhouse?"

There was a pause. Obviously, Sookie was unaccustomed to Bill taking a strong tactic with her. Bill did not like being so forceful with her, but she could be too willful at times. And this was Eric Northman after all. Bill couldn't even imagine what acts of depravity the thespian Lothario would sink to. Yes, Bill thought it appropriate to rein Sookie in when she was being difficult, as she was being now. He had been very lenient with her up until then, but he figured now that they were engaged, it was appropriate he start getting her better acclimated to his preferences...

Suddenly Sookie found her voice.

_Wait, just you wait. Hold on there, buddy. I'm not sure where that personal attack came from, but you'd better hold off from saying another word. You understand? Now. First off, I am Sookie Stackhouse, first and foremost, before I am 'your' anything. Secondly, the best part—I'm thinking—of the total spew of garbage that just came flowing out of your mouth—is the part where you basically told me you forced yourself to trust me against your better judgment? Now, have you always felt this way? Please tell me, 'cause I'm dying to know, Bill. Why the heck would you ask someone to marry you if you don't trust them worth a damn, Bill? Does that even make a lick of sense to you?_

"Sookie, you are willfully misunderstanding me. I do not like to fight with you, darling. I don't know why you do this—"

_Why I do this? Are you insane, Bill? Please tell me how I misunderstood what you just said. 'Cause I don't think I did. I listened to what you said and I think I got a good handle on it. As for your attitude towards me, I swear, sometimes…Bill, it's like you think I haven't a brain in my head or an ounce of common sense in my body. And you know something? While you were living it up in Connecticut with servants and getting your Ivy League degrees while different folks took turns wiping your ass, I was running a household, going to school, monitoring the care of a dying woman, and taking care of three kids._

"Sookie, I have the utmost respect for your achievements, darling," Bill mentally chastised himself. He should have thought this out a bit more. He knew Sookie had a tendency to be overly sensitive when it came to him pointing out her flaws.

_That's not really the point, Bill. Have you never trusted me?_

Ah, that's where she was coming from. "Yes, sweetheart, of course. Of course I trust you. Just you don't always have the best judgment."

Bill could only hear silence.

"Sookie? Darling?"

_Bill, please. You're killing me with this nonsense. You'll be here in a few hours and I really don't want to fight with you on the phone. Okay?_

"Believe me, I don't want to fight with you," Bill agreed. Sookie's temper could make things quite miserable. "So I have your word that you will be calm when I arrive later today?"

Bill heard Sookie let out a breath. When she spoke, Bill thought her voice sounded hard, but she was likely just tired.

_Yes, Bill. I'm gonna go to the Du Rones and relax. I'll be sweet as pie when you get here._

"Very good, then. Darling, I'll call when I'm 30 minutes away."

_Yes, Bill. Very good then. Bye._

He heard Sookie hang up.

Bill glanced at his phone as he flipped it shut. Sometimes he really didn't understand his Southern belle. He thought back to their conversation.

This class thing between he and Sookie sometimes reared its ugly head. Bill knew she worked hard and he was sorry it had been so difficult for her. It was not his fault he was born into a family of means and his gracious and lovely mother had an even temperament and strength of character that her own beautiful mother so obviously lacked. His secret fear was that the apple did not fall far from the tree. Perhaps her parents erred in having as many children as they did. It was a very 'Irish' thing to do. His own parents had only two children. There was only himself and his sister Jessica. His father, Jessup "Jesse" Compton, had passed away more than fifteen years ago. His mother was left to take care of Jessica and himself. Unlike Sookie's mother who apparently fell apart following the death of her husband, Bill's mother seemed to thrive and rise to the challenge following her husband's passing. Bill so admired his wonderful mother for her strength.

Honestly, deep down Bill feared the day he'd have to introduce Sookie to his mother. He knew Sookie's positive qualities very well. However, he was just as intimate with her lesser qualities. His mother, Bill feared, would be more apt to see Sookie's lesser, more base qualities. Lorena Ball Compton would not be impressed with Sookie Stackhouse's Southern belle charm, or her lilting accent, or her smart wit, or her ability to write for the common man. No, Lorena Ball Compton would want to know why her daughter-in-law was hot-tempered and why she felt comfortable raising her voice to her son and why she hadn't she attended better schools.

Yes, his mother had been quite concerned when Bill had told her he was engaged to a woman from Louisiana. His mother said that she just couldn't envision him marrying a girl from the Deep South. She'd made a humorous joke about inbreeding and then commented that their marriage—that of a New England Yankee and a Southern Belle—might possibly be the worst cross Dixie pairing since Jane Fonda and Ted Turner. Bill snickered remembering. His mother could be so witty.

Well, if nothing else, at least he would meet all of Sookie's siblings this week. Thus far he'd only met the youngest three. Though he found them wanting, he was generous enough to concede that they were young and lacked a solid influence growing up, as the child rearing had fallen to an overwhelmed Sookie. Finally meeting them all, he could perhaps gauge the character of the entire family and gain a better insight into his Southern belle if he met Jason and Tara.

_Well_, he thought,_ I have several hours left to this car ride. I may as well listen to some podcasts._

He didn't know what the week would hold for him, so he decided it would be important to listen to something intelligent and thought-provoking before settling in Bon Temps with his future relatives and the rest of the townspeople of the Deep South. Not to mention that swaggering knave, Eric Northman.

Bill set up his iPod and hit select on "The McLaughlin Group."

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**AN: Good time to remind folks about the poll on my fanfic profile for funniest ROTSS character. How does Bill not have more votes? OMG, I laughed my ass off the entire time I revised this. He's such a pretentious jackass, it's hysterical.**

**Thanks to the reviewers donael, RubySun03, supernaturallygifted, birdy81, scifireadingfool, MerryCain, sailor-ahiru, azucar69, Hidden, ncvampfan, adriana-is, Ellie Baby, VikingMistress, brook, ceba, paml, treewitch703, Bite Me Eric, and tryanythingonce.**

**Special big wave to alexandra76 and tip-of-the-hat to eaglepri. Many thanks to TeaCupHuman.**

**I kind of feel like I'm slogging through an awful mess at times. The fic really needed to be edited. I really didn't know what I was doing when I started. So all the encouragement that others (not just OCD/perfectionist me)are reading it and enjoying it is so...helpful for pulling me along. THANKS.**

**Thanks to "D" for inspiring Bill. My plan is to have Jessica Compton in the sequel. Undecided on Lorena.**

**:D more to follow.**


	38. A Tangled Web

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Tangled Web**

Sunday afternoon…

Mike and Jane Du Rone knew how to throw a barbeque. Although they only had one child, they each came from large families. Springtime always meant pool parties, barbeques, and lobster bakes.

The Stackhouses, until this past year, had always been a big part of their summer parties. Aside from welcoming Tara to the family, Mike Du Rone was thrilled that the entire family was back.

Hoyt and Hunter were in the pool, as were half dozen or so other guests. The boys were taking turns relay racing using the pool rafts and other random pool floats including the chlorine dispensers. Mike hoped they didn't swallow too water with their fooling around.

Amelia was sunbathing with her—Mike couldn't help but think of Pam as Amelia's 'mentor'. Despite their 20-year age difference, they seemed like two peas in a pod. From what Mike could tell, Pam seemed to listen to Amelia like she was an adult. Mike thought this was a good thing, that the girl maybe needed a little extra attention. Might help her grow out of her witchcraft fixation.

Jason, Eric, and Maxine, meanwhile, were discussing the house renovation and what needed to be done to section off a spread for Eric and one for JB and Tara. The type of work they were talking about—an additional kitchen, two oversized baths—would definitely cost some serious change. Although to Mike it seemed like a strange coastal thing, an export from NYC or LA, Eric's idea of creating condominiums might very well be the answer.

"Jason! Jason!" Mike could see his talented multi-tasking wife make her way out to the yard. Jane, pushing the screen door with her back, was waiving the cordless phone in one hand, holding a bowl of chips in that same hand, and balancing a mojito in the other. _Damn_, Mike thought, _that woman has the manual dexterity of circus performer_. Mike shook his head with a wry smile.

"Jason!"

Jason took note of Jane's approach. She managed to put the chips down on a table between Ame and Pam.

"What's up Aunt Jane?" Jason glanced over his shoulder at Jane.

"Sookie's on the phone! You weren't getting your cell! She wants you to pick her up!" Jane handed the phone to Jason.

"Hey, Sook," Jason said. "Where are you and where's that beau of yours? When we gonna meet him?"

_Jase, Bill actually left a lot later than I thought he was going to. I was hoping someone could come and pick me up. I already missed most of the party. Got my bathing suit on. You know how I like to catch some sun. _

"Aw, Sssook. I been partying it up over here. Shoot. That Bill left you high-and-dry? Damn, Sssook. What's up with that?"

Suddenly, Jason was slurring his words and sounding like he was three sheets to the wind. Eric gave him a puzzled look. He'd been with Jason all afternoon and knew Jason wasn't drunk. Why the hell was he acting drunk?

_Yeah, Jase. It sure sounds like you've been partying it up over there. Bill's coming. He just left a little later than he'd originally planned. _

"Aw, Sssook, yeah," now Jason was completely slurring. "Iss a great party over here. Half the town's here, Ssook. You should be here! Bill can come later! Your old boss Sam's here with a new lady friend—Eric, what wass her name?"

"Daphne," Eric supplied.

"Yeah, Daphne," Jason stared ahead for a few seconds. "Sook, did you know Sam's seeing someone?"

Amelia and Pam continued to recline in adjacent lounge chairs, observing the unfolding play in front of them. Amelia turned to Pam with a questioning look. Pam gave the girl a reassuring smile. Pam suspected she knew where this was heading. Maxine, meanwhile, sat at the table looking at the house schematics, but was quite obviously listening to Jason's end of the phone call as intently as everyone else.

Amelia wasn't sure what was going on but for the welcome news that Douche Bag was delayed. She didn't care why. She just hoped that with everything going into Operation: Douche Bag Removal, something would work sooner rather than later. Douche Bag could NOT stay in Bon Temps for three weeks! UGH! More importantly, Sookie could NOT go back to Dallas in three weeks. That would suck balls. Not in a good way.

Maxine, in the meantime, was thinking that she had never had so much fun in her entire life. She wondered if writing a letter to the AARP tour people thanking them for their lack of clarity on time differences and their anally stringent adherence to scheduling would be appropriate.

Sookie had, by now, caught on to her brother's apparent state of inebriation. Realizing that Jason was not her ticket to the party, she needed to find someone who could be.

_Jase, who's there with you? _

"Aw, Eric's right here. You wanna talk to Eric, Sook? I'm sure Eric wants to talk to you—" Jason wagged his brow at Eric who responded with a raised eyebrow.

Pam smiled appreciatively at Jason's comment. Although she preferred to be the one to tease Eric, if Stackhouse could get a few jabs in here and there, she could be gracious enough to show support. As for the pretense of being drunk to get Eric and Sookie alone together, Pam had to acknowledge that sneaky ingenuity seemed to be a Stackhouse trait. _I knew there was a reason I liked them._ A smile tugged at her lips.

_Yes, Jason, please. You are completely and utterly useless. You deserve it and I'm glad you're having fun. Now please put Eric on._

Eric could not hear what Sookie was saying but he could hear her laughing.

Jason, a wide grin on his face, nodded. "You can thank me later," Jason whispered to Eric with a wink, covering the mouthpiece as he handed him the phone.

Eric returned Jason's grin. Like Pam, he'd caught on a few moments earlier. It amused him that Jason was now in on the plot. _He's got my back. Love it._

"Hello, dearest. Miss me?"

_Eric, you can't see it so I'm just gonna have to describe it. Right now I am rolling my eyes so far back into my head I think I see the next galaxy over. You follow? _

"Yes, got it," Eric laughed. "What's going on?"

_Okay, well, Bill's not gonna be in Bon Temps for at least a few hours and I'd rather join you all at the party but my car was commandeered so I'm sitting pretty all by my lonesome. I thought my trustworthy, former military brother would be able to come get me but he's gone off and gotten himself shitfaced. _

"Yes," Eric cut a glance at Jason who went back to reviewing house plans with Maxine. "Jason's been hitting it pretty heavy."

_Anyway, can you wrestle some keys up from someone and come and get me? But, let me just qualify this with if you smash my Cabrio like you did your Corvette, I'll kill you and don't think I won't. This is bayou country. It's real easy to get rid of a body here. _

"Ah, there's that Southern hospitality I've heard so much about," Eric joked.

_Hey, [she paused] you've gotten plenty of Southern hospitality, Mister. _

"Hmmm, yes I have."

_Yeah, I thought so. _

"Listen I can get the keys from Jason and be there in fifteen minutes. Sound good?"

_Sounds perfect, Northman. _

"Good," Eric was toying with a question. Despite the four sets of eyes—and ears—glued to him, he decided to just go for it. "So what kind of bathing suit are you wearing?" Accidentally capturing Maxine's eye as he posed his question, he winked at the older woman. Maxine blushed and shook her head grinning.

_Ah, hah. Will it shave a few minutes off your estimated arrival time if I tell you?_

"It might."

_It's a white bikini with red polka dots. _

Eric could barely breathe. "Are you serious?" Fuck. Was she serious?

_Hmmm. Guess you'll have to wait and see. When'll that be? Fifteen minutes you said? _

"Ten. Ten minutes."

Sookie laughed. _Northman, remember. Do not damage the Cabrio. You damage the Cabrio, I damage you. _

"I get it, I get it," Eric closed his eyes. All he could see was Sookie in a red polka dot bikini. She would really be the death of him. How the fuck did this happen? "I'll be there soon."

_Thanks, Northman. _

"No problem, Stackhouse."

Eric hit 'off' on the receiver and with a quick nod goodbye, he left to pick up Sookie. As he did, he realized that he still hadn't managed to maneuver a free moment with Pam to figure out a game plan on Operation: Douche Bag Removal. Not pleased, he resigned himself to the fact that it would have to wait.

Bill was on his way, so Eric's time with Sookie to himself would be limited. He chose not to focus on that right then; the only thing he wanted to focus on was Sookie alone at the house wearing a red polka dot bikini.

As he hit 60 on the windy local road, Eric's head shook in silent laughter. Sookie was wise to warn him against damaging her car. He was obviously prepared to drive Autobahn speeds to get back to her.

At long last—ten minutes later—Eric finally turned the car off Hummingbird Lane. Spotting Sookie lying out on a lounge chair in front of the house wearing a red polka dot bikini, Eric's lips turned upward. Parking the car, he got out and walked over to Sookie. Standing above her, he gazed at her relaxed, sunkissed, seemingly sleeping form.

Sookie, though her eyes were closed, was very much awake. Having heard the Cabrio pull into the driveway, she was aware of Eric's arrival. As he stood over her, her body felt warmth, not only from the sun's rays on her skin, but from an internal heat that was making its way from deep inside her.

Conscious of Eric's nearness, every hair on her skin seemed to stand at attention. Sensing his eyes on her, soaking her in like a sponge, Sookie couldn't control the blush that spread across her face. She knew Eric would be smiling at her when she opened her eyes. She opened her eyes.

Eric stood, smiling down at her, slight laugh lines crinkling along the edge of his eyes. Eric folded his tall form, bringing himself down to her level, never breaking their gaze. Gradually his smile was replaced by another expression, something less definable.

"Hey," she smiled. "Thanks for coming to get me."

He breathed in her scent. She smelled of lilacs and sunshine. "Any time, lover." Eric's face was serious as he replied.

Too serious, Sookie thought. But thinking about it, she reconsidered. Eric was right to be serious. With everything they had going on, the fact that she felt as light-hearted as she did spoke volumes as to her current feeling of contentment. She was home with her family and Eric was there too. _This_ _must be what being truly happy is like._

Bringing her mind back to the present, Sookie noticed Eric's eyes had wondered south a bit. Knowing it was Eric coming to get her, Sookie had wasted no time in shedding her shorts and tank top and setting up the lounge chair, so she would be on display for him when he arrived. She smiled wryly to herself. Playing femme fatale was not really her style. Sookie hated playing games. Deciding to come clean, she cleared her throat.

Eric's eyes returned to her face from where they'd wandered. He looked at her questioningly.

"I was fully dressed and ready to go. This," Sookie smiled sheepishly as she gestured to her bikini clad form, "was for your benefit."

Eric grinned. "Well, lover, thank you. Please feel free to ensnare me with your womanly wiles any time you like. It's hardly necessary but definitely appreciated." With that he leaned over and kissed her.

Sookie instinctively wrapped her arms around Eric's neck and pulled him down to her. Eric, rising to his full height, somehow managed to lift Sookie as he stood. With Sookie in his arms—her legs wrapped around his hips—Eric made his way towards the house.

Eric sat them down on the top porch step. Their lips still pressed together, they lost themselves in a kiss.

Despite their growing passion—and the fact that Eric wanted to fuck Sookie right there on the porch— he exercised restraint. Knowing their 'Bill-free' time was drawing to an end, Eric also knew that Sookie—no matter how badly she may have wanted it, and he knew she did—would very much regret going too far at this moment. It was with regret, Eric resolved to rein himself in. Finally pulling his lips away, he brought his forehead down to hers. Once he had regained control of his breathing, he spoke.

"You smell…like sunshine and lilacs…you have no idea how much I would like to tear that bikini off you," Eric demonstrated by tugging her bikini strap with his teeth, "and make love to you until you scream my name again and again…"

Sookie's mind, unbidden, imagined just what such an activity would look like. She moaned, burying her face into Eric's neck.

"Um." Is it wrong to want a man this much? "Thanks for the visual, but today's not the day for that. You're just gonna have to hold your horses," she leaned back to look at Eric as she said this.

Quirking an eyebrow at her, half in question, half in accusation, he threw a silent "me?" at her.

Sookie responded to his piqued look with a giggle. "All right, all right," she blushed once more. "Both of us are gonna have to hold our horses. Satisfied now?"

Eric looked at her incredulous. Kissing her, he mumbled. "You have no idea how completely _unsatisfied_ I am right now, lover."

Still straddling him, her legs behind him on the porch floor, Sookie could feel how 'unsatisfied' he was. Smiling playfully, she replied, "I think I have an idea."

He smiled back. "No doubt you do." Since Bill was due to arrive shortly and their ability to speak freely would be hindered, Eric decided to ask her what she meant to do. How to ask? "So—" Eric started and paused.

Though she hadn't known him long, Sookie knew tentativeness wasn't part of the usual Eric Northman repertoire. She looked at him expectantly, a question forming and then dying on her lips. Still he was quiet, looking off in the distance.

She frowned. "Eric, what is it?"

Just ask apparently. "What are you going to do when Bill arrives?" Staring unseeingly at the trees and shrubs that dotted the driveway, Eric brought his eyes back to meet Sookie's.

_Oh, yeah! That!_ Sookie thought. "I'm going to tell him I'm having second thoughts about the wedding, about staying in Dallas, and about leaving my family." She rushed this out, without hesitation.

Eric grimaced. He did not like the fact that Sookie was leaving out a key piece of information. At least, he assumed it was key. It certainly was key to him. It also did not sound like the much desired clean split. It sounded like hedging.

"You're not telling him about us?" He brought his hand up to her face and pushed several stray hairs behind her ear.

Looking past him, Sookie avoided meeting Eric's eyes. "Eric, I'm not sure what 'us' is. What would you have me say?" With that question, her voice rose slightly and she turned to meet his gaze.

Eric sighed. It seemed like they were taking a step backward.

Reading the emotions on Eric's face, Sookie decided it would be wise to clarify a couple of things.

"Listen, Eric. I kind of mentioned this last night. Bill and I had our share of problems before you came into the picture. I think it's for the best that you do not play a starring role in our breakup. Bill's already been a...a bit..." Sookie hesitated before settling on the right word, "odd about you being here. I don't need him flying off the handle. You understand?"

While Eric was not pleased that Sookie's breakup speech failed to strike a resounding chord, the fact that she was willing to admit that she and Bill had problems before she had even met Eric bode well. Acknowledging that her relationship with Bill was not working regardless of him was, Eric felt, a very good thing.

Then, of course, Eric felt no small measure of satisfaction in the knowledge that Bill was insecure about his presence in the house. Eric smiled.

The complete turn-around in his demeanor was not lost on Sookie. She looked at him.

"Whoa— What's this? Why are you suddenly the cat that ate the canary?"

"Are you the canary?" he slyly asked to her blushing silent response. "Listen. I am," he paused to kiss the spot between her cheek and her ear, "happy just to be here with you. I will trust that you are aware that my," Eric took a second to nibble at her neck, "intentions are genuine—if not entirely honorable—when it pertains to you." He stopped speaking to look at her. "You know your history with Bill. You know how to handle him. As far as I'm concerned, I will defer to you on the Bill matter."

Since he hadn't had a chance to talk to Pam, Eric didn't have a game plan on how to tell Sookie about her siblings' plot to break her and Bill up. As much as he wanted to just tell her the truth, he didn't think it wise to upset her just as Bill was due to arrive. He didn't want anything further complicating what was already a complicated matter. He wanted Sookie to give Bill his walking papers. He knew she was still insecure about _them_, and he needed her to move forward. He couldn't have her retreating.

As for the kids' and their schemes, Eric figured Pam could speak to Amelia. Amelia, being the oldest, likely had sway over the two boys. Between Pam and Eric, hopefully they could just get the kids to calm down and be patient. Considering how well, overall, things were going Eric refused to worry about the kids. Bringing his attention to the warm, gorgeous creature in his arms, Eric buried in face in Sookie's shoulder. He had promised her he wouldn't be mean. He agreed to be 'honorable,' as far as Bill was concerned. He would not make Sookie uncomfortable with public displays. He would allow her to deal with Bill as she deemed appropriate. However, there was a line to be drawn.

"I will completely defer to you on Bill, lover—_for the time being_. I understand your desire for no public displays. I understand you wanting things not to get out of hand. But, please know, if I do not feel things are advancing as they ought, I will not sit idly by. I have vested interests here," he kept his gaze evenly on Sookie as he spoke. "I intend to do what I must to protect them."

Sookie wondered how he could simultaneously both irritate her and turn her on. Surely that wasn't right, was it? Focusing on what he'd just said, she considered. What was there to say?

What could she say?

"Okay."

Eric lifted an eyebrow in surprise. He had not been prepared for such easy acquiescence. "Sookie, you understand what I'm saying?"

"Eric," she looked at him, quizzically, her brow furrowed. "I'm not slow. Yes, I get it. Yes, I should be pissed at you for being so high-handed and demanding, but I want the same thing that you do. I fully intend to take care of this situation. That being the case, I don't think we're at cross-purposes here," she took a breath. "I guess I can let your full-of-yourself ego trip pass on this one occasion," she smiled a thin lipped grin and playfully hit his shoulder, "as long as it doesn't become a regular thing."

Eric laughed. "Lover, why do you always slap my shoulder when I've got you in my arms?"

"Guess I trust you're not gonna drop me. Even if I slap your shoulder."

Absorbing her words, Eric inhaled deeply. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," she looked at him, shyly, her cheeks a rosy hue. "I guess I do."

"Good." With that Eric leaned in and kissed her. Sookie pulled back after a bit. Biting her lip, she looked at him, hesitantly. "What is it, lover?"

"Well, I meant what I said. I appreciate that you…uh…do seem to 'get' me pretty well. You expected me to be angry at your 'vested interests' comment. Yeah, under normal circumstances, I'd be very _very_ upset with you being so high-handed. I'm letting it go because of the special situation. Do not take this as any indication of my willingness to just sit back and let the alpha male run the show. I have been in charge way too long to let someone else control my life. You understand?"

Eric nodded silently, thoughtfully.

A short while later, once Sookie had put her clothes back on, they left for the DuRones. Demonstrating more of her trust, Sookie allowed Eric to drive the Cabrio. She was still going easy on her ankle and she wasn't sure she was ready to drive. She even let him drive with one hand on the steering wheel so he could hold her hand with his other one.

Eric was reflective during the drive back to the party. Playing a mental recap of her 'high-handed' speech, he was already wondering if he had done the right thing by not telling her about the kids' scheme.

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**AN: Uh-oh! Oh what a tangled web we weave, right? This is why you shouldn't take relationship advice from an 11-year old, a 12-year old, a 13-year old, and a Predatory Lesbian whose other BFF is "The Hoff". **

**Anyway, we have a few more chapters, then the "fashion show mini-chapters," and then "Breakfast with Bill"****.**

**:D more to follow. **


	39. Barbecue and Betrayal

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Barbecue and Betrayal **

Arriving at the Du Rones, Eric and Sookie took off in different directions. Sookie was anxious to catch up with old friends and neighbors, while Eric wanted nothing more than to reclaim his seat at the designated Stackhouse patio table. Keeping an eye on her, Eric was pleased to see Sookie, a short while later, laughing and apparently enjoying herself. Capturing her eye, Eric saw her, smiling, raise her glass to him. Pleased, he returned her salute. After about an hour, Eric lost track of Sookie. He found himself engaged in a new pastime. Mike Du Rone brought out drafting out so that the group—Eric, Jason, Tara, JB, Maxine, Pam, and Amelia—could brainstorm ideas about the house renovation.

Although the ideas bandied about were relatively tame at first, after a while Pam and Eric started to introduce some radical suggestions. Like adding an entrance, an internal staircase, and a kitchen and basically carving out a two-story townhouse in the wing not occupied by the family bedrooms. These changes were substantially more involved than what Tara and Jason had been envisioning, but Pam and Eric assured them that the idea was to do it right the first time.

For Eric's purposes, he really wanted to have a place he could regard as home. But he also wanted the townhouse to be accessible to the main house. He wanted privacy, but he didn't want the Stackhouses to feel like they weren't welcome. Eric almost laughed aloud at himself. Really, he didn't want them to shut him out of their portion of the house, and he figured it would have to be a quid pro quo open door policy.

While Tara and JB were impressed with Eric and Pam's ideas, they didn't think it would be right for them. Although she found the idea of living on a 'compound' a little creepy—_All you find on compounds are Cults, Mormons, and Kennedy's—_Tara was thrilled with the idea of having her own house on the property. Having lost interest in the internal layouts, Tara started to sketch the façade of her house-to-be. Given her complete lack of artistic ability and the cartoonish result of her attempt at drawing, JB joked that they were moving to Sesame Street.

It was amidst this round of laughter that Sookie joined the group. One glance at the sketches on the patio table and she knew right away what they were doing. While she wasn't altogether surprised by their activity, she was surprised by how involved Eric appeared to be in it. Having seen several of his marked up scripts around the house, she knew his hand-writing. Glancing at the table, he seemed to be responsible for numerous sketches showing how a semi-detached two-story townhouse could be incorporated into the house. She leaned over his shoulder for a closer look.

Suddenly everyone heard a sharp intake of breath. It was with shock that Sookie realized the implication behind the sketches. Sketch after detailed sketch. They even included dimensions. They even include the approximate locations of where the furniture would be placed. Furniture that was described with a little too much detail she further noted. Her eyes widened.

"Eric," Sookie tried to keep her voice calm. How well she succeeded was up to debate. Her voice sounded coldly even, if not precisely calm. "Are you sketching designs for the proposed apartment?" Moving around the other side of the table, she fixed her gaze on Eric.

Eric's eyes lifted to meet her own. As they had sat discussing the remodeling for the past hour, Eric couldn't help but contemplate Sookie walking over and discovering the truth as a possibility. Although he hadn't decided on a way to tell her, he knew, if asked, he would not keep the truth from her. Given their earlier exchange about his alleged 'high-handedness,' Eric thought it better that Sookie learn the truth about the house sooner, rather than later. Just as it was better she hear about it as it was being discussed openly, rather than perceive it, as something deliberately being kept a secret from her.

"Yes," he responded.

"Don't you think adding kitchens and stairwells," she picked up one of the sketches, "and new doors might be a bit much?"

"Well, no," he continued to look at her as her eyes flickered briefly to the sketch and then back to him. "I think if you want an apartment layout that would be conducive to having a separate household living in it, you want to make it as much of a standalone as possible. You don't want your neighbor having to cross your hallway to get to their bedroom." Eric said this easily, matter-of-factly.

Sookie, misinterpreting the part about 'bedrooms' as being an innuendo, felt her face redden. She didn't say a word.

While definitely not the loudest party the Du Rones had ever had, it certainly wasn't quiet. Music, splashing, and laughing could be heard from every corner of the property. However, those standing closest to the patio would have sworn they could have heard a pin drop, it was so quiet. If asked, they likely would have welcomed the sound of a pin dropping. Anything that would have distracted from the overwhelming tension that suddenly hung in the air would have been welcomed.

JB and Tara took the opportunity presented by the lull in conversation to excuse themselves to fetch new drinks.

Amelia, observing the undeniable tension between the two, found herself quite satisfied that Operation: Eric/Sookie Hook-up seemed to be going well. She decided to switch back into kid mode for a while and left to go join Hoyt and Hunter in the pool.

Jason watched the unfolding discussion with wary interest and, realizing the level of Sookie's anger, wondered to what extent he'd get hit with shrapnel.

Pam, comfortably settled into a lounge chair, continued to sip her drink, looking, for all intents and purposes, like she was watching her favorite soap opera.

Maxine, in the meantime, sat drinking her mojito with a straw, trying to not look too excited.

"Uh-huh," Sookie broke their locked gaze to look at another sketch. "You appear to be sketching in furniture. Is there something you've neglected to tell me?"

"I'm doing the renovations." There. It was out.

Since she had figured it out before he confirmed it, Sookie didn't flinch upon hearing his admission. That didn't mean she wasn't shocked. She _was_ shocked. And she was angry. Furious. She was furious at Eric. Truthfully, it occurred to her that she ought to have been more angry at Jason—her own damn brother— for not telling her about this development, but deep down she knew she felt more betrayed by Eric. And that hurt confused the hell out of her.

Despite the time they had spent together, why she should feel so betrayed by someone she barely knew made little sense to her. Heck, she wasn't even sure of the source of his perceived 'betrayal.' She knew he liked being at the farm. She knew he had a reason to live in Northern Louisiana. Heck, he was basically living at that house already! Rationally, him doing the renovations and moving in made total sense. But it still made her angry enough to scream.

Why did she feel that way?

Then, it hit her. It was one thing for him to be an observer to their family concerns, but it was something else altogether for him to step into an active role. It was wrong of him to…orchestrate..._to direct_... this…this…change in her family's situation just...because he could. Just because it was within his power to do so.

It is just so…un-fucking-believably…_high-handed_. What right does he think he has to just waltz into our lives like this and change everything?

Realizing that tears were threatening, Sookie stood up and gave herself a mental shake.

_This_, she thought, _is just too fucking ridiculous_.

She needed a break. She needed a moment. She needed a moment away from _him_. She needed a moment away from all the curious gawkers.

"Uh-huh," she dropped her sunglasses over her eyes. "I figured as much. I'm going to give Bill a call to check in." She turned her now-hidden eyes to Eric. Lowering her voice, she whispered to Eric. "We're not done discussing this."

Eric nodded and watched as Sookie gingerly made her way across the deck into the house.

Jason, Pam, and Maxine sat in stunned silence.

Finally Pam, turning to Jason, broke the silence. "Stackhouse, what the fuck is up with your sister?"

"I dunno." Jason jerked his head towards Eric. "I'm thinking Eric might be the best one to explain at this point."

Eric glanced coolly between Jason and Pam. Sookie obviously was upset—as he knew she would be—by the fact that he was throwing his oars in with the Stackhouses. Although Eric had, over the past couple of days, been working under the assumption that his moving permanently to the Stackhouse farm would not please her, as the dynamics had changed considerably in the past 24 hours, he no longer felt he understood the precise origin of her anger.

At first, he had assumed she would be resistant to anything that undermined her role as the head of the family. But, with her recent decision to break things off with Bill and, presumably, her permanent return to Bon Temps, the matter of who would be in charge of the household and the kids was up in the air again. Eric figured that Jason, given the option, would be happy to let Sookie be the primary one responsible for the kids.

No, Eric did not think that that was what was bothering her at this point. It no longer had anything to do with Sookie's fears about the family moving forward without her. What it had to do with was his stepping in and involving himself in what she perceived as a family matter. She was angry with him for his 'high-handed' behavior. He smiled wryly to himself. It was obvious to him, at least, that if he was high-handed, then he wasn't the only one.

Realizing that Jason, Pam, and Maxine were still watching him, waiting for his response, Eric shrugged. "She's probably just nervous about everyone meeting Bill," he smirked.

A while later, Eric—who had dozed off on one of the outdoor chaise lounges—was jostled awake by someone shaking his arm. He opened an eye to peer at the guilty culprit. Expecting to find Pam or possibly Jason manhandling him, he was surprised and not unpleased to realize it was Sookie. He glanced around. There was no one else in the immediate area as the party had moved over towards the barbeque pit.

"We need to talk." The look on Sookie's face meant business. It was all he could do to refrain from grinning. He had only known her—as well as the other Stackhouses—a few days, yet it was like he had known them all much, much longer. Remembering back to the time in his trailer, listening to Hoyt and Hunter's back-and-forth about their indomitable sister, he now understood completely what they had meant. He bit back a laugh. Honestly, despite it having been only a few days, he could scarcely recall his pre-Stackhouse existence.

"Yes, I suppose we do." He had no idea what to expect but decided to tackle it head on. "What is bothering you _the most_," Eric paused as Sookie's eyes widened at his words, "about my making the renovations to the house?"

Wondering if he was trying to be funny, Sookie glared at him. She sat beside him in one of the patio chairs. She took a breath. Then, once she was reasonably certain her voice would not tremble, she spoke.

"Who do you think you are? Just coming in and inserting yourself into our lives? This isn't one of your damn movies! Where the hell do you come off? Is it some goddamn game to you?"

Okay, he had been expecting words. But not those words. He had definitely not been expecting that level of hostility. After the intimacy they had shared over the past day–everything they had discussed—over the past 24 hours—he had not been expecting her to attack his character and his intentions.

"Game?" Eric could not help but hiss at her. "I happen to be doing something that I want to do and incidentally it helps your family out financially. Game! What is it with you? You're not happy unless you're the most highhanded one in the room? Unless you're controlling all the shots?"

Sookie's eyes widened to saucers. "What?" Shocked, she was actually speechless for a moment. "No, no. It's not like that! I'm happy everything's coming together. But…you…you've got no damn right to insert yourself into the family! You're setting everybody up for a colossal fail! You realize that, don't you? It's one thing for you to be interested in me. I can handle it. I can handle a little disappointment. What's gonna happen to _them_ when you lose interest?"

Eric, starting to get a better handle of where her misguided anger was coming from, calmed down considerably. He looked away, thinking over his words.

"Sookie," he began quietly, "I intend on maintaining any commitments I make. Obviously. The plan is to create a condominium out of the non-family wing. It will be my responsibility to take care of it. As it's attached to the rest of the house, I will obviously do whatever is necessary to keep the entire house up."

"No! No! No!" Sookie could not help but raise her voice. Looking over towards the barbeque pit, she was relieved to see that between the music, the chatter, and the food, no one seemed to be paying any attention to her and Eric. Turning back to Eric, she continued her tirade in a lower voice.

"I'm not talking about the fucking house! I'm talking about the boys! Jason! Tara and Amelia! They're all gonna become attached to you and then your show will be cancelled—'cos let's face it, HBO sucks—and suddenly there's no reason for you to be in Louisiana and you'll lose interest and you'll be on your way to find your next fun preoccupation."

This brief, impassioned speech had been made with little time devoted to breathing. Sookie, winded, paused to catch her breath. After a few deep breaths, she was immeasurably calmer.

"Eric, this is my family. I have fought long and hard for them. You have no idea. This is not a game to me. I will do everything in my power to make sure they're okay. You understand me?" Peering into Eric's eyes, she seemed to not find what she was looking for. Frustrated, her temper flared. "They're not your...playthings! Something to just amuse yourself with!"

Eric, annoyed at Sookie's words, couldn't help but acknowledge he was angrier with himself for not identifying this as a point of contention ahead of time. Of course, as she was reluctant to acknowledge their relationship as real, it only made sense that she would want to protect her younger siblings from the potential painful fallout of a failed relationship.

Watching Sookie, staring at him, daggers in her eyes, Eric wondered for the first time if having it all was even possible. Maybe he could enjoy Sookie or the surrogate family the Stackhouses represented, but not both. Maybe he was attempting to play with too many toys at once.

"Sookie—" Eric began.

"Yeah?" She replied coldly.

Eric frowned. He definitely preferred her warm. He preferred her heated. He preferred her anything but cold.

"I am sorry," he met her eyes. "Lover," Eric lowered his voice as he said this endearment. Sookie couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her body. "You have to realize that I have no intention of hurting you or your family. As for the townhouse, it is obviously a real estate investment that meets my needs for the immediate and for the foreseeable future." Eric looked down briefly and considered his words. "It may not always meet my needs as it does right now. However, I would honor any agreements I make and I would never leave anyone I care about in a lurch. Financially _or otherwise_."

At his last words, Eric brought his eyes back up to meet hers and took Sookie's hand in his own. She stared at him. She wished she could believe him. She wanted so much to believe that he really was who he made himself out to be. But, she couldn't. She wasn't comfortable trusting him before and …well… she wasn't any more comfortable now that she knew about his going behind her back with Jason.

Looking at Eric, Sookie sighed. The situation made her sad. She started to pull her hand away from Eric but he only held tighter.

"Lover, you said you trusted me earlier. I have given you no reason not to. I will give you no reason not to. I am here." With that he lifted her hand up to his lips and gently kissed it.

Sookie felt an electric current travel down to her core. Glancing at her hand she noticed the time on her watch. Bill was due soon.

"Eric, I need to call Bill. We'll have to…postpone this talk for later."

"Yes, lover. We can postpone it. But we will have it."

Sookie nodded noncommittally as she rose from her seat. Pulling her cell phone from her bag, she made her way slowly back to the house without a backward glance.

Eric, staring at Sookie's departing form, replayed their conversation in his head. It had not gone well. Not only had it not gone well, but now Eric had more cause for concern about Sookie finding out about his role in the kids' plot to break up her and Bill.

If her reaction to finding out about his plan to move into the house was any indication, she would likely be twice as angry when she finds out about his involvement in her siblings' plan to break up her and Bill.

Sighing deeply, Eric asked himself at what point everything—which had been going perfectly—had nosedived and gone straight to hell.

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**AN: Uh-oh! I repeat: This is why you shouldn't take relationship advice from an 11-year old, a 12-year old, a 13-year old, and a Predatory Lesbian whose other BFF is "The Hoff". **

**Anyway, we have a TWO (2!) more chapters, then the "fashion show mini-chapters," and then "Breakfast with Bill"****. Now the Cadell book ends with "Bill's" (his name was Digby, actually) arrival; this story just gets started. It also is (obviously) the part of the story where I wasn't trying to parallel another work. So...the posts should go faster. THANK GOODNESS. **

**:D more to follow. **


	40. Bill

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Forty: Bill**

Reaching Bill on his cell, Sookie realized he was very close to Bon Temps. Since his arrival was imminent, she figured it was time for her to get back to the house. It wasn't like she was much in a partying mood, anyway. She made a hasty departure, hugging the Du Rones, calling out quick 'goodbyes' to her old boss Sam, Terry Bellefleur and a few others, and waving in the direction of her siblings and new housemates. Still not wanting to stress her ankle by driving, she got JB to agree to drop her off on his way to the Grabbit Kwik to pick up ice.

As JB's mind was occupied by thoughts of Tara, there was no need for small talk in the car. Sookie welcomed the quiet as it gave her an opportunity to think. She had a lot to think about…

Disappointed following her conversation with Eric, Sookie felt such a muddle of emotions lobbying for attention within her, she couldn't quite suss out how she was supposed to feel.

After spending the past few days incredulous that Eric Northman seemed perfectly at home at the Stackhouse Farm, the fact that he was preparing to make the move a permanent —or at least, a contract-dependent, annually seasonal one —should not surprise her. Realistically, it shouldn't be unwelcome, either. In terms of neighbors, renters, or someone to enter a financial partnership with (the house), Eric Northman was a more solid bet than a lot of folks. Given the ordeal with the past tenants, Sookie better than anyone knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That Eric had sided with Jason on the house wasn't a surprise; that he was so willing to put his money where his mouth was had been a surprise. With her decision to end her relationship with Bill and pick up the family reins in Bon Temps, the reality of who took whose side in the Great Stackhouse Head-of-the-Family War was a moot point.

Lastly, there was the 800-pound gorilla. She smiled wryly to herself. Okay, maybe the 230? 240? Pound gorilla. The gorgeous, blond 6'4" gorilla named Eric Northman.

For one thing, Eric Northman…was…well, Eric Northman. He was a big time Hollywood star. Celebrity. He was People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive. Despite Eric's repeated attempts to reassure her—as well as their obvious chemistry and their relative ease with one another— Sookie had a hard time believing what they had was real. It just couldn't be. Things like that don't just _happen_. Having incredible chemistry with someone—the type of chemistry that pulsates with energy and makes every hair on your body stand at attention—does not make that person your soulmate. There's no such thing as love at first sight. Sure, there's lust at first sight, but love? Nope.

Thinking back to her earlier conversation with Eric, it struck her anew just how ridiculous the situation was. Why would she sign on to have a relationship with Eric when she was already picturing in her mind the day it would end? How could she possibly entertain a relationship when she was already envisioning the pain of having to pick herself up and get over him? And it wouldn't just be her; she'd have to pick her siblings up and help them get over him too.

Sookie shook her head. It was absurd. Just thinking about Eric left her breathless.

_Not good, Sook_, she thought. _Not good._

In any case, she was still technically engaged to Bill. She glanced down at her engagement ring. It was still on her finger. The pear-shaped diamond.

Despite the 'whatever' she had with Eric, Sookie knew she had to end things with Bill. Despite the stability he offered, the interests they shared, and the fact that they could have fun together, Sookie knew the relationship wasn't all it should be. They had taken their relationship too seriously, too quickly. She'd agreed to marry him before the honeymoon phase of their dating relationship had ended. Since they'd become engaged, she'd noticed more and more things about him that indicated some of the "charm" he'd exuded before they became engaged was forced.

As JB turned his SUV into the Stackhouse driveway, Sookie saw that Bill's cream-colored Buick was already there. With a thank you to JB, Sookie climbed down from the SUV and walked over to the house. Pausing at the porch steps, she turned around to wave goodbye to JB. Standing in front of the house, she resolved: _It's now or never._

Taking care not to put too much pressure on her ankle, she slowly and carefully made her way up the steps. Opening the door, she paused to take a deep breath before entering.

"Bill?" she called out. "Hey, Bill? Bill?" She wondered if he was going to make her search the entire house for him. _ Did I tell him I hurt my ankle? I hope so. Otherwise he'll have me looking all over. _After hobbling over to search the kitchen, the dining room, and the study, she found Bill sitting in the living room reading a journal.

"Hey," walking gingerly to him, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Oh, yes," Bill lowered his journal to look at her. "Yes, darling. You know how much I don't approve of shouting indoors. "

Sookie bit her lower lip. It really annoyed her when he did that. However, since getting into a fight over something as pointless as that would not be helpful, she bit back her irritation.

"Sorry, Bill," she forced a smile. "I guess I was just looking forward to talking to you."

"Ah-hah," he smiled at her. "Yes, well, that's good at least."

She sat down next to him on the couch, her unsprained foot folded underneath her. "How was your drive?"

"Oh, you know. I don't care much for driving. So many drivers feel the need to prove something by how fast they drive, with their little European sports cars," he shook his head disapprovingly. "Especially on such a nice day. All the convertible drivers without an ounce of sense in their heads seemed to be clogging up the interstates."

"Yeah," Sookie widened and then slanted her eyes and nodded. "I don't get it either, Bill." _Way to start, Bill_. He'd been trying to talk her into selling her German-engineered Cabrio for months. Owning it meant she fell on the wrong side of his generalization.

"I guess you're tired, then, after the drive, huh?" While the original plan was to bring Bill back to the Du Rones to get something to eat, that was the last thing Sookie felt like doing. "I was originally thinking we could go back there, but it's been a long day. We can just stay here. I could make you something to eat? We have plenty of leftovers."

Bill looked at Sookie. Although he hadn't wanted to go out to the party, now he found it curious that she didn't want to go back. Could she be up to something?

"Well, darling, I thought you'd want to go back to the party," he ran his hand lightly along her shoulder and arm. "Are you ashamed of introducing me to your friends, Sookie?" Although his lips were curved in a smile to imply he was joking, his eyes belied the challenge in his words.

_Not now, Bill,_ Sookie thought.

"Bill, you didn't seem very enthusiastic to go out when we talked earlier. Are you sure you want to go out now?" She was not in the mood for his games. She glanced at her watch. "It is kind of late. I'm sure most folks have left by now," she shrugged. "We could go. If you like." She looked at him, meeting his gaze.

"Is Eric Northman still there?" Bill continued to stare at her. She could tell by the twitch above his right eye that he was perturbed. _Well, join the club_, _Bill._

"Yes, Bill, Eric's still at the party," she gestured around the room. "You don't see him here, do you? Everyone's still at the Du Rones'. And we could easily be there, too. If you want." She took a deep breath. _Calm down, Sookie._ "You know what? You're right. Let's just go. It is rather late, but it's only ten minutes up the road. We could go and introduce you to everyone. You could get something to eat, and we can still get back here early enough. What do you think?"

Whatever Bill had been trying to prove, Sookie's concession that they go to the Du Rones' deflated his sense of injured indignation. It also served to greatly lessen his insistence that they go. Calmer heads prevailing—and ultimately, Bill did not really want to go the Du Rones and deal with a bunch of small-minded townspeople of the Deep South—he came up with a better excuse for Sookie.

"You know something, darling?" He put his journal down on the coffee table and took Sookie's hands in his own, "I don't want to go to the party," he leaned in and kissed her. "This may be the only opportunity we have to ourselves. I think we should take advantage of it. How does that sound?"

He pressed his lips to hers.

_Hmm. At least he smells nice. And he kisses well, which has the double benefit of also ensuring he's not speaking_. She pulled away. She smiled at him.

"Yeah," she nodded, "you have a point. Let me just fix up some leftovers to eat and we can just sit a while and relax. I can catch you up on the latest here."

"Okay," Bill kissed her once more and then followed her into the kitchen.

"Sookie, darling. Are you limping?"

Ahead of him, Sookie winced. "I…uh…stumbled last night. Outside. While out walking over by the creek. Twisted my ankle."

Bill made a face.

"Oh, darling, you really should be more careful. You're not a teenager any more. Must take care of one's bones." Bill nodded in what he must have regarded as a comforting manner.

A little while later, Bill was seated in the dining room enjoying some leftover Chicken Ravenscroft. Sookie sat across from him drinking sweet tea. She waited while he ate. He didn't like to talk while eating. He didn't like to listen to other people talk while eating. If she started to talk to him while he was eating, he'd make a show of putting his spoon or fork down, stop eating, and stare at her until she stopped talking. Miraculously, he was capable of listening to the television while eating. McLaughlin's ramblings never caused Bill's fork to hit his eye. Silently she waited for Bill to finish eating.

Finally, he was done.

"Darling," he glanced up, "that was wonderful. I don't believe you've ever prepared this dish for me back in Dallas."

"Uh, Bill," she looked at him. _Does he listen to me at all?_ "Pam Ravenscroft, our houseguest, the businesswoman who drove Amelia home, made the chicken." She started to laugh. "Heck, I told you it was Chicken Ravenscroft. What did you think I meant?"

"Sorry, darling." Chastised, Bill looked down. "I thought I was paying you a compliment." He threw her a wounded look.

Sookie didn't feel like placating his ego. Every time they'd spoken on the phone, she'd mentioned she hadn't prepared a meal yet at the house. It wasn't her fault he didn't know how to listen.

"Well," she said coolly as she picked up his plate to bring it out to the kitchen, "I'll pass the compliment onto Pam. Or, better yet, you can let her know yourself. You'll be meeting her. Probably tonight when everyone gets back from the Du Rones'."

Sookie returned from the kitchen a few minutes later and suggested they go sit in the living room. Bill settled back down to his previous spot on one of the love seats. Sookie went to the bar to get them drinks. As she poured them each a drink, she wondered how to broach the subject of _them_.

Truthfully, while Sookie had a world of experience when it came to certain things—like raising kids, filling out insurance forms, reading medical bills, completing student loan applications—she really hadn't had much experience when it came to men and relationships. She figured it was the trade-off for being the head of the family at an early age. It resulted in considerably less time for dating. She had consoled herself with the fact that coming to relationships later just meant she never experienced the whole awkward adolescent dating phase.

Sometimes she wondered had she had more experience with men, would her tastes have been more discriminating? Certainly, starting at a later age had not freed her from dating her share of turkeys. She somehow restrained herself from laughing as John Quinn's face appeared before her eyes.

She handed Bill his drink—a brandy—and sat down across from him on the other love seat. She watched as he sniffed the brandy and, making a face, tasted it. She sipped her gin and tonic. So….she wondered how to open the conversation…

"So, Bill," she looked at him, "shall I fill you in on the status of the plans for the house?"

Bill looked at her, then looked away and yawned. "Sorry, darling," he glanced down at his watch. "It is nearly 9:00 pm. I'm very tired. That drive took over six hours. Why don't we just discuss it in the morning? I don't think my brain is ready to process any more of your house issue today." He paused and placed his hand on her cheek. "Sorry, darling."

Sookie took a deep breath. She polished off her gin and tonic. Truthfully, she was relieved. It had been an emotional rollercoaster of a day. She wasn't even sure what she was looking to say to him. She decided if she could get to bed without having to deal with this, she would be a happy woman.

"Well, let me show you to your room," Sookie started to stand up.

"What?" Bill responded with a start. "We'll not be in the same room?"

_Well, that he fucking heard, didn't he? _"No," she looked at him. "Most of the rooms have twin beds. Only four have bigger beds. They're all taken."

Bill nodded. "Oh. Who has them? Perhaps we can bump someone?"

"Well, Bill," she replied sardonically, "two of them are in Tara and Jason's rooms. Pam and Eric have the other two. Besides, kicking guests out of their rooms is not showing much hospitality." _There you go, Bill_. Sookie thought. _Consider what the Queen would think_. Sookie grabbed Bill's hand, gave him a wry smile, and led him out of the living room. She paused at the foot of the stairs, waiting for him to grab his suitcase, which he had left next to the bottom of the staircase. When he made no move to pick it up, finally she gestured to it, saying,

"Bill, aren't you going to grab your suitcase?"

"Oh, yes. Of course, darling." He responded absently. Sookie, turning her face away from Bill, rolled her eyes. _Hell, he wasn't just waiting on me to pick it up, was he?_

Once upstairs, Sookie, opening the door to the room where Bill would be staying, had to stifle a laugh. She wasn't sure who had made the bed –it could have been Maxine, Jason, Tara or even Eric. Whoever it was had unintentionally punctuated her fucktarded day in the most ridiculous manner imaginable.

Bill's twin-sized bed was fitted with a set of Thor comic strip bed sheets.

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**AN: I know a lot of the AH fics make Bill a serial killer, a sociopath, a criminal. I think it's fun just to make him a jerk. Every bad quality from all Miral's ex's rolled into one literary douche bag. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! **

**:D much more to follow. **


	41. The Bullshit Meter

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Forty-One: The Bullshit Meter **

Hours later Sookie, still awake, sat in the living room reading, or pretending to read was probably a more accurate description. Since tucking Bill into bed some time after nine-thirty, she'd toyed with the idea of stealing his car and going back to the Du Rones' party at least a dozen times.

_They're probably having a fine old time. If they weren't_,_ they would've been back by now,_ she sighed.

As she sat flipping through her magazine, she glanced at her watch every few minutes. She was waiting for everyone to come home. Or was she waiting for Eric to come home? She wasn't sure and it scared her.

While she was still pissed off, Sookie's anger at Eric had subsided considerably from what it had been while at the Du Rones. But still…

One the one hand, she could understand that it was an awkward situation, even for him. Everything happened very quickly—both everything related to the house and everything related to their 'whatever.' Processing the implications of it all—especially under the circumstances, with everyone being together all the time—wasn't easy. She knew it was unfair of her to expect Eric to know how she felt about things without her telling him.

On the other hand, she was really annoyed by his whole high-handed routine. It wasn't like they hadn't had moments to themselves in the past two days. There had been several opportunities where he could've told her the truth about the house —_if he'd wanted to._

Finally, a little before eleven o'clock, Sookie heard two cars pull into the driveway. Curious to see who had driven her car, Sookie went and glanced out the window. Jason's Passat pulled up and she saw the three kids and Long Shadow jump out. Eric followed driving the Cabrio with Tara, Pam, and Maxine.

Irrationally piqued by the fact that her siblings allowed Eric to drive her car while she was annoyed with him, Sookie couldn't help but acknowledge her own lack of maturity. After mentally seesawing on her irritation, Sookie finally deciding to just be happy everyone was finally home. Rising, she made her way out to the foyer to greet them.

"Hey y'all," she called out as she swung open the front door. "How was it?"

The kids came running inside with Long Shadow. The adults approached the house at a more leisurely pace. Sookie could hear laughter as Tara good-naturedly teased Jason for his rotating flirtation cycles. One with Holly and one with someone named Michele. She saw Eric had a supportive grasp on Maxine's arm as the woman seemed a bit wobbly.

_Hmmm_, she thought, _I guess Maxine enjoyed Aunt Jane's mojitos_.

"Aw, Sook, it was fucktastic! That pool is awesome! Colonel Flood started tossing people in. Terry freaked out a bit, but then he was okay." This from Hunter.

"It was good, Sookie. Sorry you had to go. Aunt Jane baked a bunch a pies. And we toasted marshmallows and made s'mores." This from Hoyt.

"Yeah, the pie was good." Amelia paused, considering her words. "Sook, we didn't take care of my hair today. The color. Remember?" Sookie sighed and smiled.

"Hunt, I'm glad you enjoyed the pool. Hoyt, don't worry about it. Less sweets for me, the better. And yeah, Ame. The pool party trumped getting your hair done. We'll have to see about it tomorrow. Mondays the shop in Town is usually closed, though."

Amelia made a face. "Besides," Sookie continued thoughtfully, "don't you three have an errand you need to run tomorrow? In Hotshot? Jase?" Sookie cocked an eyebrow at her brother.

"Yeah," Jason nodded and glanced at the kids. "We do definitely have an errand in Hotshot. Sook's right."

Grumbling, the kids started to come up with excuses of why they shouldn't have to go to Hotshot the following day. Jason just gave them a stone-faced look and shook his head. "Nope. Hotshot tomorrow, guys," Jason informed them. "No more hemming and hawing. Hotshot tomorrow and that's final. Bed now, also final. Do not stop at 'go.' Do not stop at 'kitchen.' Go directly to bed."

The three kids exchanged glances and then looked up at Jason who was staring intently at the three of them. Their ideas of bellyaching suddenly fell by the wayside. All at once, the three kids got on board with the going-to-bed idea.

"Yep. I'm tired. Don't need to tell me twice." This from Hunter.

"Yessir." This from Hoyt.

"Sure thing, Jase." This from Amelia.

The kids passed Sookie on their way to the staircase. Jason and Sookie followed them with their eyes as they trudged upstairs. Sookie then turned to face Jason. Unreadable at first, Sookie's face finally broke into a wide smile.

"Kids seem to be listening to you, Jase," she nodded.

Wordlessly, Jason nodded.

Looking away from her brother, Sookie realized it was just she and Jason in the foyer; everyone else seemed to have disappeared.

"Kitchen," Jason answered her unspoken question. "Aunt Jane sent home leftovers if you're interested."

"Ah," Sookie replied. "When have I not been interested in Aunt Jane's leftovers?"

"Let's hit it, then. Before Bridezilla and the houseguests from hell polish it off."

Together they walked to the kitchen. Sookie limping was a bit more pronounced than it had been. She figured she probably should have spent more time icing her ankle and less time walking around. Jason noticed her awkward gait and gave her an arm to lean on. Gratefully, she smiled up at him.

Once in the kitchen they discovered it was as Jason had predicted: Tara, Maxine, Pam, and Eric had wasted no time in descending upon the leftovers. Seeing Sookie leaning on Jason, Eric promptly stood up and guided her to his empty seat. Sitting around the kitchen table, nibbling on cold chicken legs and salad, the party-goers filled in Sookie on what happened at the party after she had left.

A rather benign party by Du Rone standards, things apparently got out of control once the pool toss started. Bud Dearborn even stopped by as the screaming could be heard from the road and a passing motorist called it in. Laughing, Sookie silently thanked her lucky stars for missing that. She loved a good party as much as anyone, but when Catfish Hennessey and Colonel Flood got it in their heads that you needed to be dunked, there was no stopping them.

"Poor Aunt Jane," Sookie laughed.

"Hey, Sook," Tara asked, curiosity evident in her tone, "where's Bill?"

"Yeah, Sook. Saw the peach Buick out front. I assume that's the automobile of champions?" Jason punctuated his comment by shoving a big piece of chicken in his mouth.

Sookie frowned at her brother's snark but decided to ignore it. "He went on up to bed a while back. He was tired," she shrugged. "Figured there was no point in him staying up."

"Sure, Sook," Jason threw his sister a pointed look. Although his mouth was completely stuffed with food, there was no mistaking his words. "No point unless he wanted to meet his future in-laws."

Sookie threw Jason a quick glance, but studiously avoided meeting Eric's gaze. "You know, Jase, you're eating like you've had no raising whatsoever. Our mama didn't raise you to eat like a barnyard animal."

Jason did not respond. Everyone else remained silent. Sookie sighed, annoyed that she seemed to be on the spot for apologizing for Bill.

"Well, it's late. We had no idea what time y'all were coming home. You knew he just drove in from Dallas. You could've come home earlier to make sure you saw him." Sookie glared at her brother.

"Aw, Sook," Jason wiped his hands with a napkin. "Tara and JB just got engaged for fucks sake. What did you really expect? We were overdue for a party."

Sookie shrugged. Whatever. Truthfully, she wasn't sure why she was even defending Bill. He had annoyed her nonstop when he came in. Frankly, she was thrilled when he went to bed. But she wasn't about to share that information with her brother. Or anyone else for that matter.

Pam, doing a quick kitchen inventory, said it would be omelets and sausages for breakfast. She followed up this announcement with the news that she was going to bed.

Exhausted and sporting a slightly dreamy smile, Tara seconded the idea of bed. Maxine, obviously hurting from the day's libations, was likewise ready for bed.

The three women turned to take their leave. Tara escorted Maxine who, still feeling the effects of her mojitos, leaned heavily on the girl. After quick 'goodnights,' they made it out without a backward glance. Pam, however, not only turned around for one last look, but also managed to fit in an over-the-shoulder wink at Eric. He threw her a "don't start with me" face, to which she responded with her "whatever" pout.

"Well," Jason was the next one to call it a night. "I guess I'll just have to wait another night with bated breath before I meet the enigmatic Bill. I hope I can stand the suspense." He started to laugh. "Don't let him go anywhere before I get up tomorrow. I'm gonna start thinking he's my own personal Snuffleupagus."

Jason's departure meant only Sookie and Eric were left in the kitchen. While there was definitely a measure of discomfort between them, it was far less than the dense tension evident at the party.

Although she felt better since she'd had an opportunity to cool off and consider things from Eric's perspective, Sookie was still confused by her and Eric's earlier conversation. She stood by what she had said: she could handle being hurt by him and she could handle disappointment. But, she would do whatever she could to protect her siblings—especially the younger crew— from experiencing any more pain. They had lost enough people in their short lives.

Eric, for his part, wasn't about to give up on one of the last remaining opportunities to speak with Sookie without her "fiancé" around. As he sat, his eyes surveyed the room. Finally, they settled on Sookie and he spoke.

"So," Eric's blue eyes captured hers, "did you talk to Bill?"

Sookie, meeting Eric's gaze, found that she was losing herself in his eyes. With effort, she shook herself out of it. As for his question, she recognized she had nothing to gain from beating around the bush. So she decided to be candid.

"Uh, actually, no. He got in. I fed him. He was tired. I put him to bed." She smiled wanly. "We didn't get into any discussions."

Eric felt a pang at her words, but he kept his face neutral. Weighing his options, he decided to just tackle the subject.

"Lover," he paused, throwing her a meaningful look. "I know we have things we need to discuss in regards to us—"

"Eric, don't." She raised her hand, cutting him off. "Don't call me that. As for what we have to discuss…well. I'm pretty sure what I have to say is not going to make you happy. How did you think I was going to feel? You keeping secrets like that? I mean you let me walk into that. I was completely in the dark as to what was going on."

"I regret that."

Pulling her eyes from Eric, Sookie looked down. Her voice was quiet. "Yeah, well. Apparently you didn't regret it enough to have done anything about it."

Eric could hear the sadness in her voice. He wanted her to understand. It was important that she understand. "Sookie, you must realize: I was in an awkward situation. My agreement with your brother, obviously, occurred prior to us—"

"Hold it right there." Indignant, Sookie did not want any more 'gloss-overs' about what did and didn't exist. She raised her eyes to meet his. "About that 'us'…well, I'm not sure what 'us' is or if there even is an 'us.' I think maybe we jumped the gun on there being an 'us'. Maybe we should just call it a momentary lapse of sanity. I like to think I'm smarter than some silly celebrity stalker who'd just fall over backwards at you being in their house washing dishes and making beds." Eric's eyes widened as Sookie's rant continued. "Going for moonlit walks. Piggyback rides. I guess I'm not as immune to your charms as I like to think. Dammit!"

Hearing a slight wheezing sound, Sookie stopped her rant to look at Eric. Surprised, she realized he was silently shaking with laughter. "What the heck are you laughing at?"

"Sookie, I'm an actor. A successful one, too." Sookie's mouth opened and she was obviously ready to let him have it. He held up a hand to stop her. "Let me finish. I'm not saying this to be conceited. I am just trying to make a point. I have gotten used to things being a certain way. I have people who take care of a lot of things for me."

He paused, considering his next words. A smiled twitched around his lips.

"By your own admission, I have spent much of my time the past few days washing your dishes and doing your laundry. I have also made several unsuccessful attempts to weed your lawn." Eric was nearly doubled over in laughter as he bit out these words, "Yet here you are angry that you are not appropriately _immune_ to _my charms_." Eric took her hand and raised it to his lips. "I would argue that it is quite the opposite, lover. I am not sufficiently _immune_ to _your charms_."

Sookie, seeing his point, had to battle a wayward grin from her face. Despite her amusement, she refused to be placated.

"No, no, buddy. I'm still angry with you. After I told you I trusted you, you let me walk around _clueless_ while you and Jase were cooking up this scheme with the house. I mean how did you think I was gonna react?" Stopping, she fell quiet as she pondered her next words. "Eric, I prize honesty above all things. Everything else, you can make adjustments and learn to live with it. But honesty is a deal-breaker and you lied to me. _You lied to me_."

Eric thought a moment. _That_ was simply not true. "Sookie, I did not lie to you." Sookie's eyes widened at his words as she pulled her hand away.

"How do you figure that, Eric? Please tell me." She closed her eyes.

"I did not lie to you. I just did not tell you everything. As you pointed out, it was a family matter. To some extent, it was not my place to tell you about the house."

Sookie let out a sound of frustration. "You're trying to get something going with me. You're trying to get something going with my brother. Heck, you're trying to get something going with my whole family! You didn't think it was your place to tell me you're moving in?" Sookie sighed in frustration. "Okay. I didn't know about them. They know about 'us'?"

Eric didn't say a word, but his face said it all.

"What the hell?" Sookie was so outraged she actually found herself momentarily speechless. "So everybody knows about—?" Appalled, she let the question hang in the air as she gestured with her hand back and forth between the two of them. She silently counted to ten before hissing, "You care to tell me what the hell is going on? _Right now_?"

Eric stared at her, considering. "It cannot have escaped your notice that your family does not want you to go back to Dallas?"

Sookie scrunched up her face. "No, I didn't notice that. No one's said a word to me. Where is this coming from, Eric?" Suddenly impatient, Sookie's voice went up a notch. "What does that have to do with anything? Are you trying to distract me with nonsense?" Frustrated beyond reason, she felt that it was all she could do not to scream.

"I didn't realize your life plan to marry and live in Dallas qualifies as 'nonsense'?"

"_That's not what I meant and you know it_." Forcing herself to calm down, she looked at him. "Tell me what's going on. Please."

Eric silently looked at her. Given their debate on 'lies of omission,' he was wondering how honest he ought to be with her. Finally, he decided: _Honesty she wants, honesty she shall have_.

"Your brothers and sisters want you to stay here. No one wants you to marry Bill. No one wants you to go back to Dallas."

His words seemed to shock Sookie. Thinking aloud, she started to speak. "But— I guess I can understand Tara and Jase— they don't know him, but the kids have met Bill. They've been out with me on holidays—"

Eric was slowly shaking his head. Sookie frowned.

"So, no one in my family wants me to marry Bill. And the kids, who have met him, don't like him."

Eric nodded. "I believe that about covers it."

"Wait. Not everything. Them not wanting me with Bill..." her eyes slanted as she completed her thought, "what does that have to do with _you_?"

"Nothing really," he replied easily. "Except I had their blessing," he finished without missing a beat.

"You what?"

"I had their blessing."

The kitchen was filled with a heavy silence as Sookie processed the implication of Eric's words. "They...uh...put you up to this?" she asked.

Eric could hear the confusion and hurt in Sookie's voice. _Shit_, Eric thought. "No, lover. Do you really think anyone could get me to do something I didn't want to do? Do I strike you as a pushover?"

He quirked a brow at her and looking at him, it required all of Sookie's restraint to keep from smiling. "Uh, no. Actually, you don't."

"Exactly. I was interested in you— intrigued really— from the moment I heard the boys talk about you—"

"Ah, you mean the moment you saw my picture on Hoyt's phone."

"Technically, it may have been your Aunt's picture," Eric teased her. Sookie's eyes widened at his comment. "But it was pretty much decided when I saw your picture." He winked at her.

Eric had seen the hint of a smile play on her lips when he had posed the idea of him being a 'pushover'. They had been sitting at the table next to each other but slightly apart. As they had continued to speak, he had been inching stealthily closer to her. Before Sookie had a chance to react, she realized Eric was beside her. His hand lightly traveled up her arm, a gentle caress that seemed to infuse her with ease and calm.

Eric's large, warm hand paused at Sookie's shoulder. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, feeling the beautiful warmth. Finally it came to rest on her cheek. With his thumb, he gently massaged her temple. She closed her eyes. Forgetting for a moment just how angry she was supposed to be at him, she relaxed and let go. She suddenly let out a low moan.

In a flash, Eric's lips were on hers, his fingers in Sookie's hair. She felt an electric pull, as heat diffused throughout her body. She felt Eric's mouth graze hers, lightly, at first, then his tongue prodded for and was granted entry. It was a gentle yet deep and lingering kiss. It was a kiss that Sookie couldn't help but respond to. Without thinking, she threaded her fingers through Eric's hair and held him close to her.

_This isn't going to go well for me if his lips are a 'get out of jail free' card_, she thought.

They remained locked in that passionate embrace for endless moments that ended all too quickly. Reality setting in, Sookie pushed Eric away. "I'm going to sleep now." She looked at him, slightly dazed. "Please put the leftovers in the fridge when you turn in."

"Yes, lover." She threw him a dirty look. But he couldn't let her go. As she stood, he rose with her. He couldn't let her just go to bed without acknowledging that what they had was something more than a flirtation.

"So, how are we?"

"Eric, I told you. There is no 'we.' There is no 'us.'"

"Lover, considering how many times we've kissed today, including just a few moments ago, I think you need to reconsider your stance on that," he said, bemusement evident in his tone.

Sookie remained silent, glaring at him.

"Unless you're looking to cast aspersions on your own moral character, there very much seems to be an 'us.'"

Sookie frowned. "Are you calling me a 'ho?"

"No," he chuckled. "Most assuredly not. Are you calling yourself one?"

"Well, heck, no. Of course not!"

"So why are we kissing if we're not in a relationship?" Eric asked her not unreasonably.

Sookie, for once, was at a loss. She really didn't know. Other than she seemed to have no self control around him. "Um...because you're an actor?"

"Sookie," Eric laughed. "Being an actor does not mean I'm a gigolo. Try again."

"Well, uh," she turned her head away from him. "You're really good at it. Like...uh...a gourmet kisser."

"Thank you, lover. I happen to think you're superb." Sookie's eyes became saucers and her cheeks flushed crimson as she turned back to face him. Not saying a word, she twisted her head slightly, biting her bottom lip.

"So," Eric paused, trying to look at her face which was partially hidden from his view, "we are kissing not because we're in a relationship but just because were both very good at it?" Eric punctuated his question with a raised eyebrow.

Sookie grimaced. "When you say it like that, it sounds fucktarded."

"So why did you kiss me?" Eric persisted. It was now or... Well, it was now. Period. The "fiancé" was upstairs. Now was the time. _All's fair_, Eric reminded himself.

"Why did I kiss you? You're the one who keeps starting it!"

"So," Eric tone was teasing. "I am merely an inappropriate houseguest and you are just a polite hostess forced to reciprocate my unwanted attentions?" His fingers on her cheek, he turned her head until her gaze met his own. "If that's how you respond to a guest acting inappropriately, I'll have to let Pam know. She has no qualms about inappropriate behavior. She would love the opportunity to be inappropriate with you."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "I'll bet," she muttered. "Anyway, that's not what I meant. It wasn't like that. I'm not looking to play around. I just responded when you started it."

"So," Eric decided to replay Sookie's theory back to her. "I attacked you with my gourmet lips…"

"Don't make fun of me."

"You kissed back..."

"Yeah. But it was a knee jerk reaction."

"Knee jerk reaction?" he repeated. "You mean like self-defense?" Eric erupted in laughter.

Thinking he surely could wake the dead, Sookie smacked his shoulder. She glanced at the doorway nervously. "Hush. Quiet down. Everyone will hear you."

"They should hear. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. Self-defense..."

"Quiet!" she hissed in a whisper. "I didn't say it was self-defense. You did!"

"I was merely paraphrasing your words." Shaking his head, Eric's expression was serious. "As for your explanation, Sookie, my bullshit meter is reading that as false."

It was Sookie's turn to burst out laughing. Surprised by his 'bullshit meter', Sookie let out a snort before she could stop herself. She succumbed to a silent giggling fit over their entire ridiculous exchange. Eric, too, found himself chortling in silent, breathless gasps.

They continued like that for a while, both of them doubled over with laughter as they tried not to wake the entire household.

Finally getting her raspy laughter under control, Sookie decided it was time to go to bed. "Eric, I'm heading to bed. Goodnight."

As she moved towards the door, Eric shifted so that he was in front of her, blocking her way at the kitchen entrance. Softly he ran his hands over her arms. He felt a tremor as he lowered his face to her neck and breathed in her scent. He heard her breath catch as she stood unmoving and silent before him. He wished he could get her to just trust him and see him for what he was. He wished she would drop the protective barrier she'd erected around herself. He wished that he could make her see the truth.

Far from regarding himself as God's gift to women, he led a relatively quiet life. He didn't date all that much, choosing instead to focus on his career and to spend what free time he had with friends, like Pam and Laffy.

Eric could tell her how he hadn't found himself so distracted by a woman in a very long time. He could tell her that he found her irresistible. He could tell her how much he loved to hear her laugh. How he loved the way the pink crept up her cheeks when she was embarrassed. He even loved her hot headedness, her take-no-prisoners way of getting to heart of the matter, her obvious strength and her devotion to her family. He could tell her he had noticed all those qualities and was overwhelmed by them and actually hoped he was in fact good enough for her.

But he knew he couldn't force her to see something she wasn't ready to see.

Without warning, Eric dropped his hands and moved to the side of the doorway. No longer blocking her, Sookie was free to leave. She paused.

"Good night, Eric." She said this without looking at him.

"Good night, lover." Eric, leaning close to her, breathed the words into her ear.

She suddenly turned her head and, leaning up, she grazed his cheek softly with her lips.

Barely able to trust himself to speak at that moment, Eric nodded.

Once Sookie had left the kitchen, Eric, his blue eyes darkened, roughly kicked a chair into place. It was not until the moment Sookie left him to go to bed that it occurred to Eric that she was likely joining Bill in bed.

Eric vowed once more that this was far from over. Even if she hesitated, he would not. There was no way he would allow Sookie to marry another man. She was his. As he was hers. Surely, she had to recognize that whatever it was between them was real. It was something special, something unique, something you prize. If you're lucky enough to find it, you do whatever you must to hold onto it.

You certainly don't run away from it. You certainly don't let a 'Bill' get in the way.

**

* * *

**

**AN: No, Eric. You don't let a Bill get in the way. If possible, you send him to Peru. I may not write lemons, but I seem to have deemed the doorway as the new boudoir. How many naughty doorway encounters have I come up with these two? Geez. Maybe Pam could open a Bed and Breakfast and call it The Naughty Doorway. Hmmm…**

**Cliff notes: At this point, the only one who knows Sookie changed her mind about marrying Bill is Eric. The rest of the family is under the impression she's still going back to Dallas in three weeks. Hence the kids' good behavior at Jason's pointed stares. **

**Revisions: Somehow, this exchange has become a favorite. I like it much better now than I did the first time around. Thoughts?**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! Fashion Show's up next. **

**:D much more to follow. **


	42. Maxine Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in the June of 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast. 

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Two: Maxine Gets Ready**

Maxine Fortenberry, feeling her head pound in all directions, swore to herself once more she would abstain from alcohol. Then, as usual, she reconsidered.

_Aw, who do I think I'm kidding? I'm 60 years old and I'm finally having some fun. Live a little. If I drink myself silly once in a while, big whoop, who cares?_

Pulling her eye mask off, she gradually opened her right eye, slowly followed by her left. The morning after a night like last night, she always found it helpful to temper the admittance of the dawn's light.

_Ah, this air smells so good. Blossoms._

While most of the people who had encountered Maxine in the past thirty years would likely be shocked by the woman's seemingly uncharacteristic decision to move to Louisiana on a whim, it really wasn't all that out of character.

After college—before deciding on a career — she had made up her mind to travel. Always an independent sort, she broke the news to her parents that she had bought a plane ticket for Europe and hadn't bothered to purchase a return. She had some money saved up. She had no responsibilities. No bills to pay. She knew opportunities like that didn't happen all that often. So, off she went. She had a blast. She never regretted a moment of it, although she did get sick in Greece and had to get in touch with her parents and ask them to wire her money. That was scary but she made it back okay. She learned how to be resilient, trust her instincts and not live by fear. She regarded those lessons as well worth the price of a couple of days in a questionable hospital.

Coming back from seeing all the beautiful, historic, majestic cities of Europe, she felt inspired to help make America's cities beautiful. This was during the mid-1970s when a lot of America's urban landscapes looked like hell. Race riots. Insurance fires. Shootings. Bad stuff all around. The cities needed some innocent rose-colored optimists to step up. That's what Maxine did. She worked for several cities in upstate New York before settling in Albany, the state capital, and working for various State government agencies. Once she settled in, she realized how fortunate she was to get really good benefits and be able to retire at some point. She made the decision that, when she did retire, if she didn't have family or obligations, she'd recreate her sojourn in Europe. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. She'd look for opportunities and she'd go.

She had been married twice and divorced twice. Both her exes went on to remarry and have kids. Maxine never had children and she couldn't say she really missed it. She knew she always had wanderlust in her and it never seemed fair to have children, with that feeling in her soul. She was much too selfish. But now, 60 years old, retired, with a pension, finally with time to travel and see the world, she felt a little pang that she had missed out in not having a family. She didn't have too many relatives nearby, at least not anyone that wanted an old retired woman overstaying her welcome.

Maxine wondered again at the way the fates had tossed her die in the direction of the Stackhouses. She didn't regard it as luck that brought her to them. She really felt that she was where she was supposed to be. She just prided herself on being able to recognize that truth when she came across it. She knew a lot of people struggled and fought against reality, having preconceived ideas that things ought to be different or they can't possibly settle for this or that, because something—door number two—must hold something better.

_Nah, just ain't so. Gotta live in the moment._

Finally ambling over to her closet, Maxine found herself mulling over what to wear. Since she'd originally planned on being away for more than a week, she fortunately had enough clothes to see her through for the immediate future.

Especially considering the way Jason and Eric kept doing the laundry!

Maxine would swear if she wasn't absolutely certain of their heterosexuality—Jason by his exemplary womanizing performance at the Du Rones' party and Eric by his ogling Sookie every chance he got—she would think the two of them were homosexuals! Straight men are just not that interested in doing laundry and comparing fabric softeners! Maybe they were that new breed of men? The ones who were straight but seemed gay? She knew there was a word for them…what was it?...ah, yes! Metrosexuals!

In any event, since it seemed settled that some Stackhouses would be staying on at the house, including the kids, then Maxine Fortenberry was fully committed to staying on as well. She'd have to take a trip back to Albany at some point to take care of her house and gather more of her belongings, but she felt reasonably certain that her future was here, in sunny Louisiana. And she was quite happy about it.

Maxine turned her attention to the day ahead.

_Hmmm, wonder what's going to happen today?_

Maxine maintained that she was most assuredly not the worst gossip on the planet—she thought her cousin Nancy fit that bill quite nicely, thank you very much. But she did have a curious streak in her. These Stackhouses, God bless'em, kept Maxine's curious streak running nearly 24/7! She almost needed a spreadsheet to keep track of what was going on. That Pam was pretty funny, the way she talked about everyone. But she was really good about keeping Maxine in the loop on what was going on and Maxine really felt like one of the family because of this. Really everyone was so welcoming.

_Oh_, Maxine thought, _today's gonna be a good one!_

This morning they'd get to meet the fiancé! Bill! She was so excited she could hardly contain herself. Well, if she weren't so hungover and feeling so lousy, then…ah, who was she kidding? She was damn excited to see the fireworks and she was damn sure there'd be fireworks.

Eric Northman was a big guy…Very big…Maxine didn't know what this fiancé looked like but, by all counts, from what Amelia was saying at the party after Sookie had left, he was quite the dweeb. Maxine shook her head as she recalled several of the choice terms Amelia used to describe Mr. Compton. Maxine thought that maybe she oughtn't benignly allow the girl to say such things, but it wasn't really her place to discipline the girl. Besides, saying things isn't nearly as bad as what some folks do and it was quite obvious to Maxine that these were good people, even if they did curse a blue streak.

Maxine finally settled on a pair of crisp white slacks and cotton periwinkle-and-blue striped button down over a loose thin knit yellow tank. She slipped on a pair of vans and began to make her way out to the kitchen. But before she had cleared her doorway, she paused and backtracked a bit.

Sunglasses. Definitely want my sunglasses handy this morning.

**

* * *

**

**AN: OMG. I forgot how much I like Maxine. I think I aspire to be Maxine. She's got a couple of decades on me and unlike her, I'll probably never be able to retire. As long as I can afford Reisling, I'll be fine.**

**Anyway, next up is Hunter. **

**:D more to follow.**


	43. Hunter Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in the June of 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Three: Hunter Gets Ready**

Hunter woke up quickly, as he usually did. While Aunt Linda would sometimes have to coax Hoyt a bit—as Hoyt would wrestle with his sheets during REM sleep mode—Hunter usually fell asleep like bird landing on the ground and jumped out of bed like a bird taking off in flight. Running to the bathroom—he had learned a thing or two about time efficiency being the youngest of six—Hunter was done with his shower and morning cleanup in minutes.

Walking back to his bedroom, he noted how scratchy the towel tied around his waist was. Definitely not Snuggle, like what Aunt Linda uses. Out in the hallway, he paused in front of his brother's door. May as well get the boy started. He opened the door and leaned his head into his brother's room.

"Hoyt. Hoyt. Time to get up, Hoyt." He stood over her brother's sleeping form. Long Shadow, lying on the floor at the base of the bed, perked up his head and gazed questioningly at Hunter.

"Hmm-mmm-" Hoyt replied.

"Hoyt, c'mon. Big day today. We got Operation Douche Bag Removal. We gotta keep our eye on that jackass and make sure he doesn't muck anything up. We can't have him doing something to make Sook go away before Eric's got a chance to convince her stay."

"Hmm-mm—"

"Woof."

"Quiet, boy," Hunter shushed Long Shadow. "I'm trying to get your retarded master up. Not you. Hoyt, you heard Ame. Eric's doing real good but you can never underestimate a douche bag to come up with new ways to spread their doucheyness around."

Hunter poked Hoyt in the chest, perhaps to demonstrate his words. He leaned over and took a close up glance at his brother's face. Smiling. Peaceful. Nearly blissful. Hunt wondered if Hoyt had had a romantic encounter of the five-fingered variety.

Hunter wasn't interested in that sort of stuff. Yet. But that didn't stop Old Felipe from telling him all about it. Ick. He's another douche bag. Guy loves to talk. Guy loves to talk about sex. Hunter was savvy enough to recognize Felipe wasn't a kid molester or anything like that. Dumbass just didn't have any friends. So he had come to regard Hoyt and Hunter as contemporaries. Honestly, Hunter didn't see what Aunt Linda saw in Felipe. He smelled good and drove a Routan but that's where the guy's positive qualities ended.

Hunter leaned over his brother and finally screamed. "HOYT!"

"Aaah! What the fuck, Hunt? What the hell's wrong with you? I was sleeping."

"Yeah and it's time to get up. Douche Bag's here, remember?"

"Well, why's that mean I gotta get up early?"

"A) It's not that early. Ten minutes. and B) He's like Wile E Coyote. We gotta keep an eye on him. And remember? The typical douche bag doesn't sleep like a normal person. He's probably downstairs with his papers and his muffins already spreading his douchyness like fairydust all over anyone who gets near him."

"Aw, alright. For fucks sake, though. You gotta be so mean and scream?"

Hunter shrugged. Method was immaterial. Maybe he'd use ice cubes next time.

Back in his room, Hunter opened his dresser drawer to see what was in there. He and Hoyt packed light when they left San Antonio, so they only had two changes of clothes. So Jase and Eric were taking turns checking in with them to make sure their clothes made it into the laundry each day.

Boy, it was good to be home. Bringing Eric home was fucktastic. Hunter knew that if things didn't work with getting Sookie to dump the Douche Bag —and let's face it. Girl could be stubborn as an old mule. If she was that set on being married to the Douche Bag, they wouldn't be able to stop her.

Instead, they'd have to figure out how to handle Jase. Things were going okay, so far, but that boy wasn't equipped to be an adult 100 percent of the time. And most of his friends were like kids that've never grown up. But if Jase had Eric around? That was perfect.

Hunter's eyes widened when he realized that the former tenants had left a bunch of t-shirts in the drawer. The shirts were fuckawesome! Hunter decided he would pair his old denims with one of the crazy tenants' t-shirts. Looking through them, he kept pulling them out and laying them on the floor next to him. He smiled a shit-eating grin when he found the perfect one.

It was red with white lettering and graphics. The image was a side profile of a douche bag on a toilet reading a magazine.

The shirt said "I love to read."

Hunter had to keep himself from howling with laughter. He continued looking through the drawer to find one for Hoyt to wear.

* * *

**AN: OMG. Hunter is a fucking trip. I forgot how the kids roles really amp up after Bill gets there. They're pretty quiet before. Again, now we're going beyond the Cadell book. Cadell's kids were a little younger-9, 10, and 11- and they were a bit on the docile side. What can I say? The book was written in 1955. **

**Anyway, next up is Hoyt. **

**:D more to follow.**


	44. Hoyt Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in the June of 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Four: Hoyt Gets Ready**

After his brother finally left and returned to his own room, Hoyt decided to get up. He really hated it when Hunter woke him up like that. He was always such a jerk about it too. Hoyt had been having an awesome dream. The girl from the Greyhound bus was there—Thalia—and she was pretty and smelled nice.

_Hmmm...too bad it was just a dream_ Hoyt thought. _Stupid Hunter. Turd._

Getting up, Hoyt ran to go shower and get all that taken care of before Ame got in there and took over. She could take forever.

Hoyt was really not looking forward to the day. Hunter was nuts. He just jumped in to shit. Hoyt, on the other hand, didn't like uncomfortable situations. He hated when people were angry. He hated when people yelled. Except for Aunt Linda because she was always yelling. It was hard to get freaked out by it. But Hunt just didn't care.

Hoyt wasn't really sorry about what they'd done to Cal—technically they hadn't really done anything. Well, he wasn't sure if they had or not. It depended on whether or not Ame really was a witch. Hoyt thought about it for a few minutes. He couldn't decide whether or not he believed his sister was a witch. She certainly could look freaky. She could act all scary, especially when she was mumbling that weird Latin shit. Her books scared the shit out of him—especially the drawings of pentagrams and half-human/half-dog like creatures. Hoyt shivered just remembering. But could she be a witch? He shook off the thought. He just couldn't decide.

Hoyt was not looking forward to going to Hotshot, but he figured they'd just do it, get it out of the way and then they'd be done with it. Jase would go with them. Sookie wouldn't ride them anymore. They'd get the camera and set it up on the treehouse so if Cal was fucktarded enough to climb up to the house again,they'd report him to Bud and give Bud the tape and get him in trouble and maybe Bud'd send him to 'juvy hall'.

Hoyt's eyes widened just remembering all the bad things that happen to kids once they got sent to 'juvy.' He didn't know anyone who'd ever been sent to juvy, but Felipe liked to watch the TruCrime network on cable so they were always watching these sick fucker murder mysteries and sometimes they were kids who got sent to juvy or 'scared straight'. Hoyt shook his head. Felipe would watch these shows, and laugh, while drinking his beer. He'd say pretty fucked up things, too.

"Leeeenda? You see? This guy keeled his girlfriend and put her in the well. You see what happens, Leenda?"

Then Aunt Linda would just stare at Felipe with a raised eyebrow. Then he'd laugh and she'd call him a 'crazy motherfucker.' Then they'd usually ask Hoyt to watch Hadley while they went to go "take a nap."

Hoyt shivered. Just remembering brought the douche chills back. He was definitely NOT missing Felipe. He figured the guy wasn't a psychopath—Hunter assured him he wasn't—but Hoyt just couldn't get over how Felipe seemed to have no clue about what was appropriate to say. Hoyt felt bad for Hadley. All things considered, she was a sweet baby. It was kinda sad her parents were out of their fucking minds.

Upon getting back to his room he saw that Hunter had left a t-shirt for him to wear. His eyes widened.

_No fucking way_ he thought.

He barreled down to Hunt's room and thumped loudly on the door.

"Hunt! Hunter! No fucking way am I wearing that shirt! C'mon. Give me a frigging break!"

Hunter opened his door. Seeing Hunter's t-shirt, Hoyt's jaw dropped. Catching flies.

"Where'd you get these t-shirts?"

"Tenants must've left them. They were in my dresser. Didn't think to check before today."

"You seriously gonna wear that?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"Don't you think it'll offend somebody?"

"Who?"

"Bill."

"For fucks sake, Hoyt, why would I care?" Hunter was incredulous that his brother even gave it a thought. "Besides Douche Bag has his head so far up his ass he wouldn't notice if all of us were wearing matching 'Bill Compton Is A Big Fucking Douchebag' t-shirts!" Hunter squinted his eyes in thought.

Hoyt, looking at him, could tell he was thinking how awesome it would be to have dozens of 'Bill Compton Is A Big Fucking Douchebag' t-shirts.

"Well, you can wear what you want but I'm not wearing this." Hoyt said this with resolve in his voice.

"C'mon, Hoyt. Stop being such a girl. Just wear it."

"No. Find me another one."

Hoyt waited in the hallway wearing just a towel while Hunter went back in his room to pick out a different t-shirt for his brother.

"How's this one? It kind of goes with mine. We'll be coordinated. Like _girls_." Hunter sneered. Hoyt took the shirt from him. He held it open to look at. It was offensive, but in a more general, not specific kind if way. Heck, if it insulted anyone, it insulted Jase and Jase wouldn't care.

It was white on black with a silhouette of a guy sitting on a toilet holding a beer bottle. Another guy was knocking on the door of the bathroom. The caption read "Party Pooper."

"Fine. I'll wear that one. But you're gonna let me pick my own shirts from now on."

"Okay. Bitch."

"Turd."

"A-hole."

"Window-licker."

With that last insult, Hoyt threw Hunter a dirty look and stormed off to get dressed. Hunter shrugged and retreated to his room.

Once back in his room, Hoyt looked at the t-shirt. The other one—the one he'd refused to wear—was pretty fucking funny. But Hoyt figured Sook would get pissed.

It was simple. Grey. With a picture of a douche bag. The caption simply said "Douchebag."

Thing was it looked an awful lot like Bill. Like Bill had posed for it.

Hoyt continued to chuckle as he pulled on his new t-shirt.

_At least_, he thought, _we'll be dressed right for visiting the bottom feeders at Hotshot._

**

* * *

AN: OMG. Wow. I'm totally reliving the fun of June 2010. My birthday week, too. "Breakfast of Champions" dropped on the season premiere of TBS3. **

**Anyway, next up is Tara. **

**:D more to follow.**


	45. Tara Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Five: Tara Gets Ready**

Tara woke up with a sense of anticipation. Again. She smiled. It was no different from the previous morning.

Well, no, that's not true. It's slightly different Tara recalled. Of course, JB had stayed over the previous night. That was nice. No. It was more than nice. Fuckawesome as the boys would say.

Tara had been walking on clouds since she and JB had gotten engaged. She was so happy and nothing else mattered. It didn't matter that they had been apart. It didn't matter that she had been alone in New York. Nothing else mattered. Everything had worked out in the end. Well, not everything. She was quickly getting spoiled and used to having him around. She hated that he hadn't come back with her last night but he still had to earn a living and she would see him later. She had toyed with the idea of staying over at his place last night but two things kept get from doing that.

The first had to do with Sookie. And, unsurprisingly, the second thing had to do with Sookie.

_Wonder if Sook realizes just how high-maintenance she is?_ Tara laughed to herself, shaking her head.

This whole thing with the kids and the house and the fact that the 'head-of-the-household' job is up for grabs had been on Tara's mind quite a bit. Despite her future plans with JB, she had no intention of throwing Jason and the kids under the bus. Really, they had no clue what set of assumptions Sookie was working under. One minute she looks like she's getting ready to jump Eric. Next thing we know her 'Bill' is on his way. Who knows what the fuck is going on in that head of hers? Truthfully, Tara figured Sookie herself didn't have a clue.

Anyway, Tara was feeling a sense of responsibility to continue to be 'hands on' at the house even if she did feel like just shacking up at JB's.

_Damn Sookie and her cockblocking ways_, Tara grinned.

The second reason Tara felt obligated to come home was to meet Bill. Sookie's Bill- who apparently wasn't interested enough in meeting her and Jason to stay awake past his bedtime.

Taking into account everything she had heard from Amelia yesterday, Bill sounded like a total pain in the ass. So maybe less time spent with him, the better. In any event, her only firsthand impressions of him were that he (a) was a cockblocker and (b) was rude. Both things were not helping to endear him to Tara.

If everything Ame said was true, Tara couldn't understand what the hell Sookie saw in him. He sounded like the boyfriend equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard.

Tara shook her head. Sookie always had the worst — _absolute worst_ — taste in men. The only one who was halfway decent was Alcide and the half that wasn't decent decided it wanted to drag the half that was decent over to Debbie Pelt, who had a talent for making everything that got near her totally indecent.

Then there was Sam, Sook's old boss, who always liked her but just never made a move. Well, he seemed taken with his latest lady friend.

_Good for him_ Tara thought. _He shouldn't spend his whole life carrying a torch and then wind up alone. Not worth it._

Tara then remembered the other one. Ugh. John Quinn. What a fucking roid raging maniac he turned out to be. Tara couldn't help but laugh remembering the story of what was supposed to be their first time — this big, grand consummation — he got all excited over them dry-humping he prematurely ejaculated in his pants.

What a fucking tool.

Anyway, she knew the kids were all over this idea of hooking Eric up with Sookie but frankly Tara wasn't sure she could see it. As lame as she was with following celebrities even Tara knew who Eric Northman was and he'd dated some gorgeous actresses and models. Or, at least, he'd been photographed standing next to them.

Beyond that, there was the whole Hollywood lifestyle. Sookie loved being in charge. If she and Eric were to get involved, how would Sook be able to rule the roost if she were in Hollywood? How could Sook spend time with Eric and keep an eye on the female competition if she were in Bon Temps?

Then factor in the whole lot of us — including now Pam and Maxine. How would Sook deal with all that? Tara wondered.

Whole thing seemed like some ridiculously complicated movie script.

Tara shook her head free of such musings. JB was picking her up after breakfast to bring her back to his place. He had appointments and work to do but she was going to use his computer to update her resume and start looking for a job. Later they were going to have some quiet time alone. She was very much looking forward to it.

_Hm, what to wear?_ She wondered.

Finally she decided on a pair of black skinny jeans and a pretty lime green top. She'd wear flip-flops but bring heels to change into. She figured they'd probably go out to dinner later and she was planning on lobbying for going to Shreveport or Monroe. Maybe that new place Lafayette's Bar and Grill. She didn't feel like going to Merlotte's. It was impossible to go there without meeting everyone you'd ever met in your entire life. While that could be real damn nice sometimes, Tara just wanted to have some JB alone time today.

Still smiling, Tara headed out to shower and begin her day.

**

* * *

AN: Okay, new readers: Does anyone like Tara? I tried to make her more likable than SVM!Tara and TB!Tara. The first time readers still didn't like Tara. I don't know what to do to make her more likable. She hates Bill! That's good. She has some good lines. Let me know. Thanks. Maybe it was because CH never gave us much Tara to go on. **

**Anyway, next up is Jason.**

**:D more to follow.**


	46. Jason Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Six: Jason Gets Ready**

Jason woke up feeling pretty good. For one thing, despite his playing around over the phone with his sister, he really hadn't had a lot to drink at the party.

Second, as he smugly told Eric the night before, he's still got it.

Well known as a ladies man before he left Bon Temps for his stint in the military, he hadn't had too much involvement with the fairer sex over the past four years aside from the straightforward sexcapade here and there. He'd pretty much found 'ho's and near-'ho's to while away the hours. It was good for what it was, but he'd missed the chase. The prowl. If there was one thing Jason Stackhouse loved to do was prowl.

First he'd set his sights. Then he'd look to charm them with some smooth talk. Then he'd give them a few smoldering looks. He knew he was good-looking. He wasn't blind. Then he'd subtly let them know that he was interested in them. By then, he was usually golden.

It was obvious from the warm reception at the Du Rones' party — from at least half a dozen girls, especially Holly and Michele — that Jason Stackhouse was back in play. Sure, it didn't hurt that Eric was sitting next to him — as long as the guy's pretty much only interested in Sook, Jase has got no problem using an A-list movie star as his wingman.

As for gauging the level of Eric's interest in Sookie, the dude was ready to drop a cool half million on fixing up a house in Northern Louisiana that ain't never gonna be worth that kind of money. Jason had never been really good in school, but he was no dummy. He knew that nothing says love — lust? Ick, Jason didn't want to think of somebody lusting after his sister — like dropping a shitload of money on an investment that will never be made back.

Thinking about Sookie, Jason was reminded that today was B-Day. Bill Day. Jason made a face as he contemplated this Bill guy. He didn't like the sound of everything he was hearing from the kids, especially Amelia.

It had seriously rubbed him the wrong way that the guy had just gone to bed rather than stay up to meet his fiance's family. If he had an ounce of sense in his head, it should've been obvious they wouldn't be out all night. It was an all-day BBQ for one. They had kids with them, the youngest being 11. It wasn't like they were gonna head out to Lou Pines and get plastered or anything. Besides, they're not rude and they knew he was gonna be back at the house. Sook should've known better. Hell, maybe she told him to go to bed. For all Jason knew she didn't want him to meet them last night and she tucked him in to make sure he didn't.

She would've tucked him right into his twin-sized bed complete with Thor bed sheets. Jason laughed.

He knew it was juvenile but, heck, it didn't hurt anybody. That reminded Jason of the day's major activity: Hotshot.

Jason figured he understood where the kids were coming from — _well, except with Ame and the sorcery/witchcraft stuff_ — and a part if him was real proud of them for standing up for themselves. But he knew the adult, responsible thing was to tell them that going to Hotshot to get revenge on the little prick was the wrong thing to do.

_You can't take matters into your own hands like that. Especially ganging up on the little bastard. Besides, _Jason thought, _I do not want Cal Norris upset with me. That guy's one weird dude._

So, he was going to bring the kids up to Hotshot and have them apologize to Cal, maybe even say something to Crystal and Tanya.

_Hmmm, wonder if I can convince Eric to come to Hotshot with us? One fluttering of his eyelashes, those two will probably forget about the whole thing._

No matter how it goes in Hotshot, Jason would have to keep his promise to the kids. So, they'd have to stop at the electronics store to pick out a surveillance camera. Jason shook his head. He still thought it was pretty fucking ridiculous to set up a security camera on a tree house when nine times out of ten the front door to the house wasn't locked.

_Hmmm, although, maybe we should rethink that?_

Jason hadn't given it a thought before right then but having Eric and Pam—even Maxine — living with them, well they might want the place locked. At the thought of having keys made for everyone, Jason had to chuckle.

_Shit! Locksmith is gonna be able to retire once he's done making keys for everybody here._

Jason had a full day. He'd need to talk to Sook about the kids. He was bringing them to Hotshot and then the electronics store, but Catfish Hennessey was supposed to stop by and get him in the late afternoon. Jason was picking up a few hours on the road crew and was planning on talking to Catfish more about job possibilities in town. He figured he'd leave his car at the house so Sook or whoever would be able to get around.

Then Jason might have a date with Holly Cleary. They'd talked at the Du Rones but had left it kind of open-ended. He figured he'd give her a call before they left for Hotshot.

So Jason needed to confirm with Sookie that she'd be okay keeping an eye on the kids since he was gonna be out and Tara was planning on spending the day with JB. Truthfully, Jason felt it was kind of ridiculous to worry about the kids. Amelia was 13. She was old enough to be babysitting for other peoples' kids. She was definitely old enough to be responsible for her 11- and 12-year old brothers.

Jason snorted.

And then we got Eric, Pam, and Maxine. Let those kids try to get something over on them. Thinking of Pam as a babysitter made Jason nearly howl with laughter.

Jason went off to shower, figuring he'd throw on his jeans and a wife-beater so he'd be ready to work with Catfish.

_Besides_, he laughed, _if I'm hanging out with Eric all day, I'd better show off my guns. Don't want to be overlooked by the ladies._

**

* * *

**

**AN: Jason is like a hybrid between SVM!Jason and TB!Jason. He needed to be somewhat intelligent but still prone to poor decision-making.**

**Don't forget to check the blog links to see the casting and wardrobe. TB casting continues but Reese Witherspoon is Sookie. Aside from that, obviously, the roles of children are played by children. **

**Don't forget to cast your vote in the poll on my FF profile for Funniest Stackhouse Six Character. Pam is an obvious shoe-in for the winner, but I think Second Place is still open.**

**Anyway, next up is Amelia.**

**:D more to follow.**


	47. Amelia Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Seven: Amelia Gets Ready**

Amelia watched the daylight take hold outside her bedroom window. She had woken up before dawn. It wasn't that she hadn't slept. She had. It was just that her inner clock knew she had things she needed to do and so it woke her up some time before 5 am. She wasn't tired. Well, she'd been a little groggy but she had too much to do to dwell on it.

First thing she had done was dig up her French notebook. She figured if she felt like killing Bill at any point, she could diffuse it with some choice "le douche bag" terms. The boys didn't know French but Pam could speak French. They had practiced a little in the car ride home and then a couple of times since then. She was pretty good, but was out of practice. Practicing with Pam had helped a lot.

Next thing she did was to take a look at several of her alchemy books. Amelia figured that the intent behind Sookie making her promise to not cast any more spells on people was that she not to do any harm. So she figured casting spells promoting good for people would be acceptable.

So, if Amelia wanted something really really good to happen to Eric — let's say give him his heart's desire — well, it's not the purpose of the spell to screw Bill. It would just be a — ha ha — unfortunate outcome tied to the greater good. Pam explained that in military terms this would be regarded as "collateral damage." It's just a price to be paid, but the mindset is always that the benefits far outweigh the costs. Amelia could hardly disagree with that logic. So, she sat in her bedroom, before the sun even had a chance to set the yard awash in its golden greenish glow, trying to find the best alchemy tool for either Eric or Sookie. Amelia was flexible. Either one would do. It was the outcome that mattered.

Finally, the sun peaking in through her window informed her that her day was finally beginning. Sighing, Amelia piled up her books and removed them from the bed. She straightened her sheet a bit, laughing to herself thinking Eric would probably stop by at some point and just remake the bed.

_He's kind of fastidious,_ she laughed. _He'll probably make us all take off our shoes when he gets his place done._

Eric. He was a funny guy. In spite of the Hollywood thing. Both he and Pam were totally family now. He was soooooo stuck on Sookie. Sook obviously had it bad for him.

Well, the only person who it maybe wasn't obvious to was Sookie but that's not surprising. Sookie had always had a stubborn streak. As well as a blind streak. A crazy streak. A control freak streak.

Thinking of Eric and Sookie together made Amelia smile.

_Ha_, Amelia thought, _they can be fastidious, high-handed control freaks together!_

And Sookie would stay in Bon Temps, with them, where she belonged. Billdo could go back to Dallas or back to his beloved New England with the rest of his Billdo family.

Back to Eric and Sookie…Even if Sook refused to see it, it was obvious to everyone else in the house.

Amelia heard her brothers carrying on outside in the hallway.

_Idiots_, she thought. _And what a couple of girls! Sounds like they're fighting over what they're wearing_!

Hmmm. Amelia needed to figure out what she was gonna wear. Until old MOF made good on her promise to send over her stuff, Amelia was stuck with a pretty limited wardrobe.

However, considering they'd be facing the Douche Bag for the first time on their home turf, Amelia felt the need to really make a statement. A real FUCK YOU BILL moment. But she didn't have anything much beyond her old kids clothes that was left here when she went to school and her the few goth items that she brought back with her. The outfit she had worn yesterday to the Du Rones was a hodgepodge borrowed from Sook and Tar. She didn't even have her school uniform anymore because she gave it to Pam. Suddenly Amelia's eyes widened and the signature Stackhouse grin lit up her face.

_Pam_, she thought. _Pam will have just the right thing for me to wear._

Slipping out of her room she saw her brothers had finally quit bickering and gone into their respective rooms. She sailed over to the other wing where Pam, Eric and Maxine's rooms were.

About twenty minutes later, Amelia returned to her room pleased as punch with her Pam loaner. It was awesome. Pam saw how much she loved it and had even told Amelia she could keep it.

Amelia could hardly contain herself. She loved her new t-shirt. The best part was that she was positive it would freak out the Douche Bag. There's no way he could possibly not notice it. It was a FUCK YOU all right. Or not. Amelia giggled.

Then Amelia did something she hadn't done in ages.

In the privacy of her room, she did her happy dance.

**

* * *

**

**AN: ****OMG, I love 13-year old Amelia! Hey, are you scratching your head thinking you missed something? LOL. Somehow when I think "Amelia," I think "Big Reveal." I didn't describe her shirt because I wanted you all to just look at it. Check my blog for all the links.**

**Anyway, next up is Pam.**

**:D more to follow.**


	48. Pam Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Eight: Pam Gets Ready**

Pam still had a grin on her face after Amelia returned to her room. Really the girl was just too damn amusing. She had come tearing into Pam's room like a bulimic in search of a toilet. Apparently she was a bit angsty over seeing this Bill. The Douche Bag seems to have an icy way of cutting people down, and from what Pam gathered from Amelia, his slighting hurtful words had been aimed in the girl's direction one too many times.

Pam could only shake her head. Having witnessed Barracuda Sookie in action, it was hard to imagine that the little firebrand would allow her fiancé to talk smack to her younger siblings. Either Amelia was exaggerating (_hmmm, slight possibility_) or Douche Bag was careful to practice his snarly venom when Sookie was conveniently out of the room.

Pam would bet on the latter. It takes a Douche Bag to bully kids behind their guardian's back.

Regardless, Pam was quite pleased she was able to hook her young friend up with something appropriate to wear. It was multifunctional. It served a purpose in that it would irritate the Douche Bag and it looked cute on her.

_Hmmm, I should check if that t-shirt store on Rodeo Drive has a website. There's a t-shirt there that would be absolutely perfect for Amelia..._

Amelia's early morning visit certainly got Pam thinking about a few things that she otherwise would not have started her day off thinking about.

First. Eric.

Pam was wondering how Eric would handle the whole Bill thing. Now Pam had known Eric a long time — they'd even been in several productions together while attending UCLA Film School. In all the time she'd known him, she honestly could not recall ever having seen him so smitten with a girl. In fact, it was hard to recall him even seeing any girls.

Pam had gone so far as to wonder at times if she needed to have "The Talk" with him. The "Listen [Insert Name Here], You Seem To Be Gay And You Just Don't Know It Yet" Talk. It was not a comfortable conversation to broach with someone — Pam knew this firsthand — but since Eric was her best friend she would have done it for him. Better he realize it before the paparazzi.

Hmmm. That reminded her. Where the fuck were the paparazzi anyway? Frankly, she was amazed they hadn't had paparazzi crawling out of the cemetery to get pictures of them at the Stackhouses'. The photographers were always underfoot in Shreveport. Somehow they couldn't find them in Podunk.

_Hmmm. I guess that's why they call it Podunk?_

So Eric was...in love? Ha! Not only was he in love but he was in love with a woman engaged to a Douche Bag. A Douche Bag her entire family despised! Honestly, Pam thought, if the Northman can't knock this one out of the ballpark, he needed to just turn his testicles in at the door and start hosting Tupperware-cum-sex toy parties with Laffy.

_Hmmm, Laffy. Wonder what Dame Edna's African American stand-in has been up to since taping has been on hold?_

Pam thought for a moment about calling Laffy. Then she realized she should probably call Russ Edgington, the director, to check in and find out Eric's schedule. Might be a good idea to find out about the script changes.

_Last thing I need is Eric losing his shit over script changes. _Pam rolled her eyes.

Whenever he flipped his shit, she would have to talk him down. Usually he didn't want to hear it. Then she'd get the lecture. "There are some times I seek your counsel, Pam. Now is not one of those times."

"Yes, Master." Pam would respond, her voice dripping in sarcasm. Pam pouted her lips just remembering the "Master's" last ego-tirade. Oh, well. That was years ago. He'd come a long way since then. Apparently the way to keep angst at bay in Hollywood was success. Who knew?

Suddenly it occurred to Pam that she ought to call the car dealers and find out the status on the cars. They'd need to be mobile again once shooting began. Pam then had another thought. With her and Eric moving to Podunk permanently for six months of the year, perhaps they ought to get matching Podunk mobiles. She made a face as she pondered this, realizing she wasn't even sure what a Podunk mobile was. She figured Eric would want a jeep — so he could continue to live out his military fetish. But what would she drive?

Pam shrugged. She would have to muse on that at another time.

The other major thing that Amelia's visit had reminded Pam of was her role in the whole Bill thing.

Pam knew she had promised Amelia. She would never, ever renege on a promise, especially not to one of _hers_. But. This was definitely a _FAVOR _Pam would not soon forget. The best thing she could have done for herself was the fact that she used somewhat ambiguous wording in her promise to Amelia.

She hadn't promised to seduce Bill — thank God. She had only promised to pay the Douche Bag a "little extra special attention." Frankly, she hadn't even been sure of what she meant by that. She just knew there was no way she would force herself to have any kind of sex with him. Even simulated.

Not overly fond of men, Pam could be swayed for the right one. She'd do Jason, if the opportunity presented itself. Eric and she had had a flirtation way back when but their relationship had long ago cemented itself as a brother-sister-pussy-handler type thing. If it hadn't and she met an Eric doppelganger –who was less whiny—she'd do him in a Swedish minute.

Yes, Pam could be swayed by the right man. Man, not Douche Bag.

Good thing Ame visited. She also reminded Pam about the whole Hotshot nonsense. She still couldn't believe that Thing ruined her pump. Oh sure it didn't look any different but just glancing at it Pam could tell it had redneck foot sweat on it. It even smelled funny. Like paprika and beer.

In any case, since they were going to the electronics store to buy a camera Pam decided she would suggest to Eric that he tag along like a good Viking and pick up some equipment that Pam could use in her effort to pay a "little extra special attention" to Bill. She was starting to get an idea of how to pay attention to the Douche Bag.

Pam would not seduce him. Instead, she would go back to her film school roots. She would make a little movie starring Bill.

Movie Title: Douche Bag.

Starring: Bill Douche Bag. She frowned. She knew he must have a real last name but she couldn't remember what it was. Besides Douche Bag was pretty distinctive. If you heard an ad for a move starring "Bill Douche Bag" it would definitely make you want to know more about that movie.

Supporting Cast: Maybe some whips and chains. Handcuffs. She was sure she had a pair somewhere in one of her bags. If not, maybe she'd find the confiscated Uncle Felipe cuffs.

_Hmmm, that Uncle Felipe sounds pretty interesting. I look forward to meeting him._

Pam smiled. She hadn't realized how dull life had gotten until she found herself on her Stackhouse Staycation.

Now, what was she going to wear? Going through her t-shirts with Ame was kind of fun. She'd spotted one that had always amused her.

_I'll wear the schoolgirl skirt, the t-shirt, and a pair of Dior pumps. __Let's give that Douche Bag a welcome he won't soon forget_.

* * *

**AN: ****Ah. Pam. She kind of leaves me speechless! I decided to not describe her t-shirt either. You gotta go to the videotape. I mean the blog link. I love her version of "The Talk." Sweet Jesus.**

**Next Up: Sookie**

**:D more to follow.**


	49. Sookie Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Nine: Sookie Gets Ready**

Startled awake, Sookie realized Eric was kissing her. She was, apparently, kissing him right back. "Mm…when did you sneak in my room?" "When did you invite me?" "I did not." "Liar." "Oh, hush."

Suddenly music spilled into the room and Sookie sat up with a start. For real, this time.

_Fuck. That was a dream? Shit!_

Turning off the alarm radio, Sookie laid back in her bed. Considering everything she had to deal with once she got out of bed, she was planning on postponing it as long as she possibly could.

Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe she'd get up and it really was just her at the house. Her siblings wouldn't be there. The retired urban planner from New York. The pouty Martha Stewart. The shirtless Viking god.

She groaned. _No, you know what your dream was. _

The last time her life had made any sense was at least two —maybe even three? —days earlier. It was Friday that she met with Uncle Mike and JB to talk about selling the house. Friday, which seemed like a lifetime ago but was, in actuality, only a few days.

Now that it was Monday morning, she couldn't help but think back to what her original plan for the week entailed and compare it to how her actual week would likely unfold.

Originally she was supposed to go through the house, room by room, and sort out what needed to be tossed, what needed to be sold, what needed to be put in storage, and what needed to be shipped to someone. They were putting the house on the market for sale. She was going to start thinking about meeting up with the kids and figuring out just where everyone needed to be for the next year. She was also supposed to start planning out her wedding to Bill.

Now, the house was not being sold. It still could use a really good cleanup, but it would continue to be the family home. The kids were home. Hoyt and Hunt were persona non grata in San Antonio, while Amelia had gotten herself expelled from Poly Prep. Until she got her shit together, Jason and Tara were home to watch them. Not to mention Maxine Fortenberry, a retired urban planner from New York; Pam Ravenscroft, a Hollywood manager/Martha Stewart wannabe; and Eric Northman, People's Sexiest Man Alive.

Yeah, they had enough babysitters, she figured.

As for her marrying Bill...well, she needed to end things with him. That, she knew, would not be easy. Not having had much experience with relationships, she tended to shy away from ugly scenes. The few relationships that she'd had that had ended hadn't culminated in ugly breakups. She had broken up with Quinn. Well, she had to kind of trick him so that he thought it was his idea, but that hadn't been a difficult thing to do. Alcide had broken up with her, but that was because he got back with Debbie. Other boyfriends? None that serious.

Okay, so she was breaking up with Bill. She wished she had thought about this before he drove out from Dallas. Hindsight being 20/20, now she couldn't help but wonder what does one do when your fiance comes out to see you and you break up with him? He'd better leave but Bill was acting so weird lately. He was really letting his true colors show.

_It's like he was acting and on good behavior before I agreed to marry him... _

Then there was the second part of her Jerry Springer man drama...Eric.

Was she really going to...what?...Date?...Have sex with?...Have a fling with?...Eric Northman?

Was he really expecting that she, Sookie Stackhouse, lifestyle writer based in Podunk USA, and he, Eric Northman, People's Sexiest Man Alive and star of HBO's latest flavor of the month, were going to...do what? Date? What the fuck would THAT look like? She'd bring him to Wal-Mart to take advantage of their Rollbacks and he'd bring her to the Emmy's or the Golden Globes so they could get dressed up and have flashbulbs go off in their faces? Then there's the fact that he lives in Los Angeles half the time and travels around the world filming moving half of that time. Would they even see each other if they dated? What was the point?

She couldn't help but think that if she entered into anything with Eric Northman, all it would wind up being would be an affair or brief little fling. It might be fun, but she wouldn't want to get hurt over it. With him making the investment in the house, with him becoming tight with Jason and the boys, and Amelia and Tara too, she didn't want to be responsible for there being any awkwardness. What if they did date and then they broke up, she didn't want to have home become this awful, awkward place. Not for him, not for her, certainly not for her brothers and sisters.

On the other hand, he wouldn't be around much anyway. Actors usually worked long hours when they were filming. He and Pam were only around so much now because that writer/director Russell Edgington was such a crazy egomaniac —according to Maxine, who had gotten the story from Pam — he was doing last minute rewrites to the scripts. Were it not for this, Eric and Pam would be out of the house for hours and hours each day. They'd have their own separate entrance. If they did the townhouse renovation, it really would be just like Tara and Maxine's idea of renting or selling a portion of the house. Financially, it would put them so far ahead of the game. She wouldn't have to worry about the kids, about health insurance, about tuition bills, about college. The amount of money Eric was willing to spend was ridiculous. She had gasped when she finally got Jason to tell her at the party. The whole house wasn't worth the money Eric was willing to spend on just a portion of it.

Why would anyone in their right mind be willing to spend that kind of money on an investment that was a loser from the get-go?

_Eric must not be in his right mind. _She frowned. _Pam is his best friend. That should have clued me in right there. Oh fuck it! I have America's hottest bachelor interested in me and I can't handle the stress! What is wrong with me? _

_And Bill! I had agreed to spend the rest of my life with him and I'm all ready to toss that decision to the wind, on a lark? Just because Eric Northman has gotten it into his head that he enjoys family life and he sees me as a shortcut?_

Getting out of bed, Sookie walked over to glance out her window. She heard something — no someone — coming up the driveway. As if on cue a gloriously sweaty blonde Viking god suddenly appeared at the driveway.

She let out a breathy sigh. She was in so much fucking trouble. She felt as though she were wound so tightly her jaw would snap. Just thinking about dealing with Bill was making the skin above her right eye twitch. And Eric! Trying to think about what to do about Eric!

_Think, Sook, think. What the fuck are you going to do?_

Finally she had it. She was just going to call a moratorium. Or estoppels. One or the other, she wasn't sure which. Boring words from Maxine's urban planner magazine. Sookie didn't care what it was called; it was the concept that was important. Basically it meant "take a break and do nothing." That is just what she was going to do today. Nothing.

The more Sookie thought about this moratorium idea, the more she liked it. She wasn't going to break up with Bill. She wasn't going to rush into a relationship with Eric. And, as long as she could make sure there was always a third person in the room with them, she wasn't going to allow herself to get caught up in any more make-out sessions with Mr. Lipsmacking Good.

For one day, Sookie was going to take a little breather. No serious conversations. No big decisions. Maybe she could do something benign with Bill. It was his first time to Bon Temps. It was his first time staying over in Louisiana. Maybe there were tourist things they could do. Even if he felt like just catching up on work, she'd be fine with that too. She would just lay out and catch some rays. The more Sookie considered that, they better it sounded. She would love to just bask in the sun for a couple of hours.

Jase was taking the kids to Hotshot. Tara was hanging out at JB's. Eric, Pam, and Maxine were adults and were not her concern. The only one she was obliged to take care of was Bill and she was sure he'd be okay just hanging out. Although, she'd have to dig up the 50 SPF sunscreen lotion if she was going to try to get him to agree to hang out with her outside.

_Hmmm. I wonder if he remembered his hat?_

Sookie took few deep breaths and had to admit she was already feeling much much better from the tightly wound stress knot she was when she first woke up. Exhausted, she was just calling in a mental health day.

Sookie was very pleased with this plan. Standing gingerly on her sprained ankle she thought maybe doing a compress on her foot would be a good idea. It didn't seem to be recovering as quickly as she thought it should.

She decided not to say anything to Bill about it. She figured he'd be on her in a heartbeat with a lecture about taking vitamins and "acting" her age.

Sookie shook her head. Some things about him she would just never get.

She figured she'd just throw on a bikini and a light summer dress on top of it, so she'd be ready to lay out when breakfast was done.

* * *

**AN: This was one of those chapters that got a full rewrite. I didn't like how wishy-washy Sookie was. Also I put a lot of TB references in the story. I still have a couple here and there but I decided I wanted the story to be open to wider audience so I eliminated a lot of them. Also, since I was pulling suggestions, there were a lot of things that were a work-in-progress. Now that I know what happens, I can put more foreshadowing in.**

**I really like Reese as Sookie. I've seen Reese in several movies and as I wrote ROTSS, it was her voice I heard in my head. Hmmm. Does that sound weird? I do that a lot. Write dialogue with actors voices and delivery in my head, that is. Oh, well, nothing to be done about that. **

**Next Up: Eric**

**:D more to follow. **


	50. Eric Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

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**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page.**

**

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**

**Chapter Fifty: Eric Gets Ready**

Monday morning found Eric awake rather early. Frustrated after a rather unfulfilling sleep, Eric felt the need to expend some pent up energy. Deciding to go for a run, Eric was surprised he didn't encounter anyone, either inside or outside.

Back in his room, dripping wet and clad only in a towel, Eric answered a knock at his door. Hoping it might be Sookie, he was unsurprised to see that it was Pam.

Following a barely perceptible nodded greeting, she spoke. "Guess who's coming to breakfast?"

What is this? Pam's version of a knock-knock joke? _Okay, I'll bite, _he thought. "Sidney Poitier?"

"No. Guess again."

Bracing himself, he asked,

"Who?"

"Douche bag"

"What?"

"Douche bag says what!"

With that, Pam thrust something into Eric's hand. Eric shook his head. He could only surmise Pam was spending a little too much time with Hunter.

"What's this?" Eric found himself with a rolled up t-shirt in his hand.

"One of the teacups found it. They're lobbying for you to wear it."

Eric opened up the t-shirt and laughed. "Seriously?" Contemplating the potential ramifications of wearing the t-shirt, Eric had to acknowledge wearing it was a pretty messed up thing to do. It might even be the 21st century equivalent of challenging a man to a duel. Quirking his brow, he punctuated his question nonverbally to Pam.

She smirked and nodded. "Yes, well. The boys were your find. Take it up with them. You could always throw another shirt over it but it would be a shame to cover those guns, Eric. Arm porn is all the rage these days."

"Hmmm." Eric shook his head. He did not think Sookie would find it funny. Fuck. He grinned. Everyone else would.

"What the hell size is this?"

"Don't be a princess. It'll fit you. It'll just be snug. Are you going with them to Hotshot? You, your pecs, and a t-shirt two sizes too small might make that whole mess dissolve like cream in coffee."

Eric frowned. He could normally handle Pam—hell, they'd been friends since college. But he sometimes wished she could rein herself in until after breakfast. He could tell by her tone she meant 'cream' in multiple connotations. All things considered—from what Eric had heard about the women of Hotshot—their 'cream' was not something he wanted any direct knowledge of. He certainly didn't want the fucking image planted in his mind before he had a goddam coffee.

Pam.

Who was standing in front of him tapping her foot. For the first time he noticed what she was wearing. "Pam. What the hell are you wearing?"

Pam smiled. "Just noticed, huh? It's Amelia's old schoolgirl skirt."

"No. Not that. The t-shirt."

"I think it speaks for itself."

"'Vagitarian'? Yeah, I suppose it does. You think that's appropriate to wear to breakfast?"

"Eric. Now you're sounding like a douche bag! Lighten up. Barracuda already wants to drive a stake through my heart. Who cares if I'm wearing a progressive t-shirt that speaks of tolerance and acceptance?"

"They don't have 'Predatory Lesbian', do they?"

"I'm gonna have some made up."

Eric nodded. Reconsidering, Pam was right. Sookie was going to make whatever decisions she was going to make, irrespective of what t-shirts he or Pam wore to breakfast. She might as well get full insight into what she's in for. He glanced again at the t-shirt in his hand and laughed. It was pretty damn funny.

"They say it even looks like him," Pam told him.

"Yeah?"

Pam nodded.

"Okay, I'm in."

Pam nodded once more. "I'll let the teacups know."

Eric nodded, shutting his door after Pam. He hadn't given too much thought to what he was wearing to breakfast. Honestly, he'd been too preoccupied by the thought of meeting Bill and seeing the woman he fully admitted to being infatuated with interact with her still-as-of-yet fiancé.

He knew Soookie didn't want things to devolve into a pissing match, and he had promised her he would do what he could to keep things 'nice,' but he had also been painfully clear in his assertion that he would take whatever actions he regarded as necessary if she did not live up to her end of the bargain. With her decision not to talk to Bill the previous night, Eric was starting to feel a bit concerned that she was not living up to her promise. As that was the case, Eric had no compunctions about taking the actions he felt necessary.

Truth was, if she didn't want him around all she had to do was say the words and he'd be gone. But she hadn't done that. He knew she wouldn't do that. But she was caught up in this thing. He needed to get her to stop feeling insecure about them and just allow herself to accept him and accept _them_.

For some reason, she was having a hard time with this decision to break up with Bill, even though she knew it was the right one. Maybe it was her headstrong nature. Maybe it was antithetical to her worldview, her vision of herself. Maybe she felt an obligation to Bill, a sense of responsibility. Maybe she worried that if she broke it off with him, he'd be alone forever.

Well, whatever it was, it wasn't a concern of Eric's. Eric just needed Sookie to keep to their agreement. If she didn't, she would learn the hard way that he would keep her to it.

Returning to the decision of what to wear, Eric dropped his towel. The sun's rays filled the room setting his naked form aglow like a mythical sun god.

He pulled the too-tight t-shirt over his head. Looking in the mirror he laughed, shaking his head.

He went to grab a pair of briefs from his dresser drawer when he suddenly changed his mind. Deciding nothing quite said 'I'm home' like going commando, Eric opted to forgo briefs and instead just pulled on a pair of jeans.

He grinned at his vision in the mirror. He'd have to go back to filming later in the week. It would be hard to go back to work given how much fun he was having at Camp Stackhouse.

He considered putting on flip-flops but then opted to forego those as well. If going commando said 'I'm home," then going barefoot said "I'm not leaving."

Chuckling to himself, Eric left his room to start his day.

**

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AN: ****Hmmm. So, whatcha think of Eric's wardrobe decisions? I must say I really can't fault his logic. Made perfect sense to me.**

**Next Up: Bill *shakes head* **

**Don't forget to check the blog for the cast and wardrobe selections. Bill's such a douche one of his links disappeared and I had to track it down and repost. So if anyone tried and didn't get to see "Bill's Hat" - the link has been repaired. **

**Voting still open on Funniest Character on my FF profile. **

**:D more to follow.**


	51. Bill Gets Ready

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

* * *

**

**Fashion Mini-Chapters:**

This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.

**IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifty-One: Bill Gets Ready**

Bill Compton woke up to the odd sound of birds chirping. Dallas, of course, had birds but since his house had central air conditioning, the windows were perpetually shut. Aside from that, Bill wasn't overly fond of being awakened prematurely to the "sounds of the jungle. " He had pest control come quarterly to make sure no birds or any other creatures would impose themselves on his home. So far it had worked. Bill was pleased.

Bill rolled over in his bed. Or at least he attempted to roll over. Unfortunately, there wasn't really adequate space for rolling over. It had been many many years since he had slept in a twin-sized bed. And with Thor sheets. A Viking. Bill frowned. That reminded him of something. He wasn't altogether sure he believed Sookie's claim that the bed in her bedroom was a twin as well. He needed to find her room and see for himself at some point today...

Speaking of seeing things for himself, very soon Bill would see Eric Northman for himself. For the first time in many years. More than twelve. Or maybe it was twelve.

Eric Northman. Mr Method Actor. He wondered if Northman would even remember him. Probably not. Bill Compton was probably one of many aspiring young actors who had their hopes and dreams torn apart by Eric Northman. Bill laid back in his bed. He remembered it like it was yesterday…

Bill had gone to UCLA because they had an excellent economics department. But a little known secret was that Bill had a second reason for wanting to attend UCLA.

Bill had always had a dream to be an actor. A thespian. What other career aside from acting provided a person with an opportunity to project and enunciate and foster a commanding presence? Bill knew he couldn't do it professionally —his parents would never have allowed him to pursue something so frivolous. Comptons only did things that had meaning. While other, lesser people had jobs, Comptons had careers.

In any case, though he wasn't enrolled at UCLA Film School he was free to try out for parts in their productions.

It was his freshman year. The school was doing a performance of the musical Grease. Bill had tried out for both Danny Zuko and Kenickie. He spent hours each day practicing his singing and dancing. Thanks to Mother he was quite the proficient pianist—although they didn't like his suggestion that Danny Zuko play the piano during the play.

Finally, it was the day of the try-outs. Dozens were there competing for both parts.

Bill, being a method actor, had put tons of hair gel in his hair. He wore a black leather jacket. He had even gone to a store that catered to coeds —Bill snickered at the memory—and bought a pair of dungarees.

He stood there waiting his turn. He was going to sing "Greased Lightning." He had practiced it at least a dozen times. He knew he sounded good. He knew he had an excellent voice. How did he know this? His lovely mother had told him. Lorena Ball Compton would never lie.

He was not sure who the director was until this very tall Nordic-looking man sauntered over. It was obvious from the cocky way he carried himself that he was in charge. Listening to the whispering around him Bill deduced that his name was Eric Northman. He had come from Sweden to attend UCLA. He was a senior. From the conversations overheard around him, it sounded like this Eric Northman held a tight grip on the performances, always going for, and being rewarded with the top spots.

Bill hated him immediately on principle. Just because someone was good at something doesn't mean you always give it to them to do. You must distribute opportunity around. It was the liberal New England mindset that Bill's parents ascribed too and he too believed in it. Detractors called them limousine liberals but Bill knew which way the wind blew. Even as a freshman in college.

When his turn was called, Bill took center stage ready to sing. He got out a few notes. He thought he heard laughing and giggling but under the stage lights he couldn't discern where it was coming from.

"Go Greased Lightning— "

He started on the first refrain when suddenly the music was cut. In a flash, the director, Mr. Northman, stood in front of him.

Northman took his large paw of a hand and patted Bill's head like a dog and then wiped it on his jeans. That is, on Bill's jeans.

"You had a glop of hair gel sitting atop your head," Eric told him easily.

Right then Bill Compton knew he hated Eric Northman and would for all eternity.

"What's your name?"

"Bill."

"Well, Bill, I'm sorry but your try-out is over. I am going to suggest you try non-musicals. You certainly have a way about you. For the right production, I could certainly see you in a role. But not this one."

Yes, Bill remembered it all as though it were yesterday. Of course, he had followed Eric Northman's career. Of course he knew it was the same one.

This is why nothing could have startled him more when Sookie told him Northman was staying at her family's farmhouse.

Truthfully until he heard of Northman's desire to stay at the farmhouse—or at 'Camp Stackhouse' as Sookie ridiculously insisted on calling it—Bill had kind of made the decision in his mind that Northman was a homosexual. When they were in college, Northman had always had rather longish hair. Also, Bill never knew of him ever being in a relationship. Not in school and not from anything he'd read about him since college.

Now, Bill was quite sure Northman was not a homosexual. He was, however, a dangerous predator. And—Bill knew this first hand—he was a conceited arrogant egomaniac.

Bill was sure Eric wanted Sookie. But Bill would not give her up. Sookie was _his_.

He could only hope that Sookie had not fallen prey to Eric's tall, blond good looks. Sookie could be naive and impressionable sometimes. Bill hated to say it but it was indisputably the truth and a weakness in her character that bothered him immensely.

Bill wondered how he himself would respond to seeing that arrogant ass Eric Northman. He couldn't promise that he would be in control of his actions if Eric said something inappropriate. He wondered again if Northman would recognize him. Bill assumed not. The ass had probably destroyed so many lives trampling his way to the top, he couldn't be bothered to take names.

_Well, time to get up._

What to wear? Bill had delicate skin and was careful to keep it covered. He didn't like those huge windows in the dining room although he imagined the covered porch kept most of the direct sunlight out.

_Well, better to be safe than sorry. I'll wear my hat._

Bill paired his hat with a pair of Khakis, his favorite LeTigre polo shirt, and his penny loafers.

Since he was dressed Bill figured it was time to go downstairs. He was looking forward to his morning bran muffin.

* * *

**AN: Oh gosh. I still spit up when I read this chapter. OMG. Bill is so fucking hilarious. Go vote for him in the Funniest Character Poll! Somebody! He needs to make more of a showing. **

**So the UCLA connection. Bet no one saw this coming, right? Me neither. After Bill's second phone appearance one reviewer commented "What the hell is up with Bill's attitude towards Eric? Does he know him? Why else would he hate him so much?" LOL. Plot bunny was born. OMG. So so funny. **

**Next Up: Breakfast of Champions**

**:D more to follow.**


	52. Breakfast of Champions

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******AN: **The Lark Shall Sing ends when Bill (Digby) comes to town. Eric (Robert) moves to a hotel to spare Sookie (Lucille) any discomfort. (All they'd shared at that point was a chaste walk in the moonlight. No kisses. No acknowledgment of attraction. I rewrote the plot to fit ERIC and SOOKIE.) A few days pass and Eric hosts a dinner at a restaurant to celebrate JB (Jeff) & Tara's (Roselle) engagement. Lafayette (Jerry) happens to be at the restaurant, misunderstands the situation, and toasts the happy "couple," Eric and Sookie. Bill sees this, sees the fact that neither Eric nor Sookie protest and registers that there's a mutual attraction between them. So he breaks up with Sookie and leaves.

Like Mr. Costanza and his search for Festivus, I knew there had to be a different way. A way to tell the story but make it consistent to the SVM characters. So that's what I did.

**

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IMPORTANT**: PLEASE LOOK AT THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE UNDER **RETURN OF THE STACKHOUSE SIX**.

**See Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog for character links. **See what everyone is wearing.

**Chapter 52: Breakfast of Champions Seating Arrangement **See where they're sitting.

**

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**

**Chapter Fifty-Two: Breakfast of Champions**

Amelia walked into the dining room to see Bill, already seated, eating a bran muffin. As if that wasn't douchey enough he was also reading the New York Times and wearing a hat.

_He's so the textbook definition of douche bag_, she groaned to herself.

Glancing at the near-empty table, Amelia sat as far away from Bill as possible. Watching him, she waited for him to lower his paper and look at her.

She waited. And waited. And waited.

Eyes wide, incredulous, Amelia muttered, "_blind_ douche bag". Hearing a noise, she swung her head around. Seeing Pam in the doorway with the coffee pot, she smiled at her friend.

Pam responded to Amelia's greeting with a curt nod and an unspoken question punctuated by a jerk of her head. Amelia replied with a frown.

Coffee pot in hand, Pam made her way across the dining room towards Bill. Standing to his right, she waited for him to acknowledge her. He didn't. Piqued, she cleared her throat.

Still there was no indication from Bill that he heard Pam. Sitting like a statue, he just continued to stare at his newspaper.

Pam cleared her throat a second time.

Again Bill showed no response.

Now Pam's gaze was incredulous. She glanced at her young protégé.

Amelia, rolling her eyes, just shrugged.

Pam, turning her attention back to Bill, silently glared at the man.

Amelia, quickly becoming an expert on Pam's facial expressions, could tell Pam wanted to kill Bill. Had the woman been holding a knife instead of a coffee pot, Bill might've found himself embarking on a musical career as a falsetto-singing eunuch. Seeing Pam's eye flicker, Amelia lost it and laughed.

Amelia's snort roused Bill from his perusal of the Times' economy section. He glanced up.

"Ah, Amelia." He gave the girl a once over and a thin-lipped smile. Taking in her "I -Love-Lesbians" t-shirt, he frowned.

_FUCK YOU, BILL!_ Amelia thought triumphantly.

Scowling silently, Bill continued to stare at the girl, his staunch disapproval apparent in his eyes. Finally he spoke.

"Oh my, Amelia," he said in a horrified tone. He shook his head, a frown deeply etched in his face. "Your _hair_. My goodness. Did someone do that to you? Did you do it to yourself? You didn't do that on purpose, did you? I can't imagine someone doing that to themselves _intentionally_." He sounded perplexed. "Well, regardless, I'm sorry to say but it _does_ _not_ look good on you."

Amelia, startled that his first words to her would be an insult about her newly black locks, growled silently to herself. Seething, she bit down on her lip to keep herself from letting loose a string of expletives. When she later recounted the incident to her brothers, she acknowledged the fact that she really oughtn't have been surprised. Douche Bag is as Douche Bag does, after all.

Then a light bulb seemed to go off deep inside Douche-Land. Amelia waited.

"Oh!" Bill nodded his head thoughtfully, fluttering his eyelids in a girly kind of way Amelia noted. "I think I understand. It's the _witch_ thing, isn't it?"

Bill's insult to her hair forgotten, Amelia found herself newly infuriated over his making a mockery of her craft. Her eyes dark with anger, Amelia fought the urge to scream at the top of her lungs.

It was moments like this that led so many to compare Amelia to her eldest sister. Sookie and Amelia had both inherited the famous Hale temper. It was passed down on the female side, usually skipping a generation. Adele had passed it down to at least two of her three granddaughters. Tara was generally sweet natured—although even she had her limits. It was too soon to tell about Baby Hadley.

Amelia, her eyes initially glowing with anger, promptly became glassy with unshed tears. Although the Douche Bag had hurt her feelings, she refused to allow herself to cry. She simply could not—_would not_—give him that satisfaction. Still, pained by his insensitivity, she had a hard time thinking up a comeback.

Fortunately, Pam, who had been silently observing the exchange, had no such problem. Pam, too, must have found something insulting in the way Bill spoke to Amelia. An evil glint in her eye, the woman –her voice saccharine —asked Bill, "Would you like some coffee?"

Bill, finally registering the presence of someone aside from himself and his 13-year old nemesis, glanced over his shoulder and saw Pam.

Replying with a less than gracious bark of "yes," Bill lifted his cup with his right hand, while continuing to hold his folded newspaper in his left hand. He returned his attention to his perusal of the paper.

So engrossed in satisfying his liberal political wonk addiction, Bill didn't notice Pam avert her eyes, lifting them upward just as she tipped the coffee pot to pour Bill's coffee.

Due to her less than stellar coffee-pouring effort, Pam "accidentally" spilled coffee on Bill's outstretched hand.

"Ow! Ow!" Bill shook his hand and then, pursing his lips, proceeded to blow on it. Realizing how close the spilt coffee was to his New York Times, he sopped it up with a napkin. Irritated, Bill looked up and glowered at Pam. "Do you _mind_? That's my _hand_."

"La prochaine fois ce sera votre bite," muttered Pam. [_Next time it will be your dick_.]

Amelia burst out laughing.

"Sorry Bill," Pam smirked at Bill. "I'm Pam, by the way." She lowered the coffee pot.

Bill, lips puckered, just kept blowing on his hand trying to alleviate the sting. Finally taking his first real good look at Pam, he noticed her outfit. Eyes wide, he flared his nostrils and curled his lip.

"Hello. You'll pardon me for not offering my hand as you've just inflicted third degree burns upon it."

"Yes, well. Sorry about that. I'll go grab the first aid for you."

Pam glanced at Amelia as she made her way towards the doorway. "Je vais finir préparer le petit déjeuner." [I'm going to finish preparing breakfast]

"Premiers soins?" [First aid?] Amelia asked.

Pausing at the door, Pam shook her head.

Wondering where the Douche Bag got his muffin, Amelia decided to ask Pam. "Qu'en est-il que les muffins?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "He brought his own."

"Oh!" Amelia nodded. _Figures, the_ _Douche Bag would travel with bran muffins_.

Bill, oblivious to their exchange, finally stopped blowing on his hand and resumed reading his paper.

Dreading the Douche Bag's arrival for days, now that he was there, Amelia still found herself incredulous. "Il nous faut donc voir cette personne misérable pendant que nous mangeons?" [So we must see this wretched creature while we eat?]

Pam shrugged as she made her way out of the dining room. "Au moins, il porte des vêtements." [At least he is wearing clothes.]

_Ha ha_, Amelia silently laughed agreeing with Pam. Thank God he was wearing clothes! And what clothes they were!

Amelia, preoccupied as she was while on the receiving end of Bill's micro-penis fueled projected feelings of inadequacy, hadn't realized the full extent of his Designer Douche Apparel. Now that the Douche Bag was back to reading his paper and quietly playing with his muffin, Amelia took the opportunity to conduct a thorough appraisal.

Bill was wearing his typical 'uniform' as Amelia tended to think of it. Khakis. Polo shirt. Penny loafers. A sweater the knitting machine threw up. Topping it all off was his fucktarded hat. Having never seen it before, Amelia wondered if he'd recently ordered it from the Douche Bags R' Us catalogue. Why he was wearing it in the house she couldn't even begin to imagine. It kind of looked like Elmer Fudd's hunting cap. She didn't think the Douche Bag hunted, unless it was for his missing balls. Snickering, she leaned back in her chair to get a better look at Bill's profile.

_He's got nerve insulting me_, she thought. _He looks like he's got a duck nuzzling his head. He could be the centerfold of Douche Bag Magazine. _

Just then, like two cannonballs, her younger brothers shot into the room.

Hoyt and Hunter had apparently resurrected their old game of racing in the house. Stumbling and screaming as they made their way into the room, they failed to notice the adult sitting there. At their clamorous entrance, Bill tore his face away from his newspaper with a scowl.

Spotting Amelia, the boys squawked out a greeting to their sister.

"Mornin' Ame." The boys said in near unison.

"Morning guys." Amelia jerked her head towards Bill. "Look over there. It's Bill." Amelia announced this in the same tone she might use to warn of dog poop.

Hunter's eyes widened when he saw Bill sitting at the table. Hoyt froze. Watching their almost-brother-in-law, both boys had the same thought: _What the fuck is on his head?_

"Boys," Bill nodded at them, in an officious manner. "You really should not run and shout indoors like that. It speaks to very _very_ poor breeding. I know your sister was the one who raised you, but still there is a saying: 'what's good for the goose, is not always what's good for the gander.' Just because she has a tendency to scream and shout and act inappropriately at times does not mean you should emulate her." He nodded his head to emphasize his point. "That means you shouldn't copy her."

Catching flies. It was with shock, Hoyt, Hunter and Amelia listened to this mini-lecture.

_He didn't just-, did he?_ Amelia thought. _Fuck. If ever somebody needed a transformative spell, it's the Douche Bag. Dammit! What if I can't figure out a way to make him go away? Why the hell did I promise Sookie I wouldn't cast any more spells? SHIT! FuckShit FuckShit FuckShit…_

_Geez, he's mean_. This was Hoyt's inner thought.

_Damn jackass. He'll get his._ This was Hunter's.

In one of her increasing moments of maturity, Amelia decided the best course of action would be to ignore the Douche Bag. She would focus on her brothers and just change the subject.

"Hey, where's Long Shadow?" asked Amelia.

Hoyt and Hunter, still recovering from the Douche Bag's litany of self-righteousness, were slow to answer. But the dog, as though he'd heard his name, announced his arrival with a bark, and came bounding into the dining room. Being an easily excitable dog, he made a beeline for the new face: Bill. Standing on his hind legs, Long Shadow brought his front paws onto Bill's lap. Yelping excitedly, the dog swatted at Bill to get him to play with him.

Bill was not amused. He put his paper down on the table to keep it safe from the slobbering dog.

"Oh, oh," he grimaced. "Hey, boys. Whose dog is this? Is this your dog?"

"Woof, woof." Long Shadow started to grind himself into Bill's leg. "Woof, woof."

"Boys, call off your dog. It has me by the leg of my khaki's. Ah," Bill gasped. "I think he's trying to have sex with my leg. Ah…" Bill squawked out, horrified.

Hunter and Hoyt, meanwhile, exchanged a look. Ew! Hoyt's face turned green at the idea of his dog having sex with Bill's leg. Hunter, wide-eyed, was doing his best to stifle a laugh.

"Oh," Bill gasped. "He's trying to get a piece of my muffin!"

The three kids watched as Bill wrestled with Long Shadow, trying to avoid the dog's slobbering, while simultaneously trying to save his beloved New York Times and his equally beloved bran muffin.

Finally, Hoyt asked, "Debemos liberar a los gringos?" [Should we free the gringo?]

Hunter shrugged, responding unenthusiastically, "Supongo que sí." [I guess so.]

"Long Shadow, Long Shadow. Yield, boy. _Yield to me_." Hoyt called his dog off the 'gringo.'

Hunter, catching wind of his brother's words, threw Hoyt a confused look. "'Yield to me'? What the fuck, Hoyt?" he asked.

Hoyt shrugged. Long Shadow reined in, the two boys joined their sister at the far end of the dining room table.

The three teacup Stackhouses carried on a silent exchange. In the past, each time the kids had encountered Bill it was either at his house or at Sookie's apartment. They always had to be on good behavior because they were somebody's guests. But now they were home. Now, they had the home court advantage. The time for pussyfooting with the Douche Bag was over. They knew they wouldn't have to start with him; he'd do something eventually. He couldn't rein in being a Douche Bag: it was in his nature. They just hoped Sookie or Tara or Jase would hear him when he was being a jerk to them.

Bill, in the meantime, freed from the attack of the rabid dog, was scrutinizing the boys' outfits. He found their wardrobe choices just as appalling as their sister's.

"You know, Hunter," Bill finally started to speak, "your shirt is promoting a fallacy."

Hoyt and Hunter looked at each other. Who knew the Douche Bag had time to notice their t-shirts while fighting off Long Shadow's molestation of him and his 'muffin'?

As for Hunter's t-shirt, it had a picture of a guy sitting on the toilet with the caption "I like to read."

No dummy, Hunter knew what 'fallacy' meant. Douche Bag was calling him a liar, now? "Yeah. How so?" the boy replied.

"Well, your t-shirt implies you like to read. You do not. A more appropriate shirt for you would say 'I like to use my five fingers.'"

The three Stackhouse kids threw disgusted looks at Bill whose eyes had gone back to his newspaper.

_Ew_, thought Hoyt.

_Creeper's getting like Felipe_, thought Hunter.

_That is so gross_! thought Amelia.

"_You know_," Bill continued. "Because of your perpetual handheld electronic game addiction."

_OH!_ The three kids exchanged a new round of looks.

"In any case—" continued Bill.

_Uh-oh_, Amelia thought. _Douche Bag's gearing up for a lecture. I can feel it. Starting…now. _

"I suppose that t-shirt's supposed to be humorous? There's nothing more base than toilet humor. Back in the day, a long time ago, puns were regarded as the highest form of humor. Do you three even know what a pun is? I doubt it. It's when there's a secondary meaning attached to a word's primary meaning. So, when something is said you can take it at it's face value—that is, its primary meaning—but then you must peel away the layers to find the deeper, more humorous meaning—the secondary meaning."

Amelia closed her eyes and counted to ten. She really _really_ didn't understand her sister sometimes. How could Sookie possibly want to marry Bill? This guy was just …_unbelievable_… If a hemorrhoid could talk, it would be Bill.

Hunter, angry that Douche Bag was calling them dummies, had a retort hot on his lips. He was halted in his tracks by Amelia, who threw him an "I'll take care of this" look. Knowing when not to mess with his sister, Hunter promptly closed his mouth.

"Oh yeah? Hunt wearing that shirt is ironic. That's humor." Amelia informed Bill.

"Yes," agreed Bill, "but irony is a very simple form of humor. For very simple people. Puns are complex. For those with a more evolved sense of humor."

All this was said without Bill ever moving his eyes away from the newspaper. Had he glanced up, he might have actually been taken aback by the look in Amelia's eyes. Furious, Amelia was glaring at Bill with pure, unmitigated hatred. Hoyt and Hunt found themselves slightly worried by the look in Ame's eyes. Amelia didn't miss a beat in her reply.

"Oh I reckon me and the boys can figure out what a pun is alright."

Bill finally lowered his newspaper and threw Amelia a pointedly challenging look. Bill's look said _Well, little girl? Let me hear your little pun._

"How about if _you_ were wearing Hunter's t-shirt? While you were sitting on the toilet reading your friggin' newspaper? I'd say that would be a pun. A pretty _FUCKING_ funny one too!"

Hoyt let out a chuckle of nervous laughter. Hunter was undecided as to whether or not Amelia's heated response was funny. Truthfully he had no idea what a pun was—but then he decided the visual of Bill wearing the 'toilet reader' t-shirt while sitting on the toilet reading was hysterical. He started howling.

Bill, for once, was at a loss for words.

Seeing a stumped, silent Billdo, Amelia smiled. Feeling awesome, she did an internal happy dance. She had bested the Douche Bag.

Finally, Bill just harrumphed and went back to reading his paper.

The kids exchanged triumphant glances.

Maxine and Tara came into the dining room next. Tara quickly locked eyes with her younger siblings'. At Amelia's theatrical eye roll toward the head of the table, Tara turned her attention to the strange man seated there. Tara frowned. Jason had grown accustomed to the spot at the head of the table and she knew he'd be irked that a stranger had claimed his spot. The man, engrossed in the New York Times, was eating a disgusting-looking bran muffin and was inexplicably wearing a cap indoors.

_Jesus, I sure as hell hope we have a plunger_, thought Tara as she glanced again at Bill's muffin.

Tara, pulling her gaze from Bill, made eye contact with Maxine. Wondering why Bill wasn't acknowledging her and Maxine, Tara cleared her throat. He didn't stir. She tried again. Still nothing. Tara was getting annoyed. How was it possible anyone could be that oblivious? Amelia, observing her sister's rising anger, finally just called out, "HEY BILL!"

At Amelia's raised voice, Bill lowered his newspaper and gave the girl a stern look. "Amelia, there is no need to scream like that. I'm sitting right here. I can hear you," _Hmmm, apparently Hoyt and Hunter were not the only ones to pick up Sookie's bad habits_, he thought. "Also, perhaps you shouldn't drink coffee at your age," he gestured at her cup. "I can hear you are phlegmatic. I heard you clear your throat several times."

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged an exasperated look.

"Este hombre es tonto," Hoyt finally said. [This man is stupid.]

"El hombre es un asno," Hunter replied, nodding. [The man is a jackass.]

Though she again wanted to respond with a string of expletives, Amelia managed to stifle the impulse. Instead, reminding herself that she had just bested him, she issued a calm reply.

"No, Bill. I'm not phlegmatic. I'm not even drinking coffee. My cup is empty." She turned her cup upside down to prove how empty her cup, in fact, was. "Our sister Tara was trying to get your attention to say good morning. But you're too busy being anti-social, _Mr. Rude_, to pay any attention to the niceties associated with the communal activity of breakfast."

Hoyt and Hunter shifted their gazes to see Bill's reaction to being effectively slammed by Amelia. Tara, proud of her sister, smirked at Bill. Maxine stood there riveted, a small "o" fixed on her face. Suddenly, clapping could be heard from the doorway. Everyone turned to look. Standing there were Jason—'the clapper'—and Eric.

"Ame, way to go," Jason laughed. "I think you're too hard on old Octavia. Sounds like you got a decent vocabulary out of that school." Turning his attention to his future brother-in-law, Jason made his way past the boys, Tara, and Maxine, to the end of the table.

"Hey," he said. "You must be Bill. I'm Jason Stackhouse." Jason held his hand out.

"Oh," Bill, putting down his paper, stood up, and shook Jason's hand. "Nice to meet you Jason. Congratulations on being out of the Army."

"Navy," Jason corrected him.

"Oh, right," Bill nodded absently and sat back down. "Was it a good experience? The travel and all?"

Jason kept his face expressionless—which wasn't easy considering the guy's hat— but inwardly he thought, _Is this idiot serious?_ He turned his head down the length of the table, meeting Eric's gaze, he rolled his eyes. "Uh, yeah, Bill," Jason turned back to face Bill. "It was a lot of fun." Jason grinned but it didn't quite make it to his eyes. "Just so you know, this place at the head table by the doors is mine. Where you're sitting here. Mine."

"Oh?" Bill was startled.

"Yeah. But since you're a guest and you didn't know, we'll let it go. Once. But now you know," Jason raised an eyebrow as he said this.

Puzzled, Bill stared at his future brother-in-law. "Uh, yes," he finally agreed.

"No," Jason corrected him shaking his head.

"Right, no," Bill agreed. Puzzled over the man's possessiveness over a seat, Bill wondered if possibly Jason had returned from the war with a substance abuse problem. From listening to NPR, Bill knew such things happened on occasion.

Jason, mumbling something about "news ink," wiped his palm on his jeans after shaking Bill's hand. He then took the seat to the right of Bill.

Finally, Bill, turning his gaze towards the doorway, registered Eric's presence.

"Eric Northman, the actor," he snarled. With a sweeping glance, he took in Eric's form, immediately fixating on the man's enormous bare feet. Bill's face took on a look of disgust. Did the man know no bounds? He was even barefoot!

"Bill Compton, the fiancé," Eric smiled pleasantly but made no move to go around the table to shake Bill's hand.

_AH HA! _Bill detected not a glimmer of recognition in Eric's face. Noticing Eric's t-shirt, Bill's face set into a smirk. _Another fan of low-brow sarcasm_, he thought. Well, two could play at sarcasm. Bill would show him.

"Nice _shirt_," Bill sneered at Eric.

Knowing full well what t-shirt he was wearing, Eric, startled by Bill's comment, felt his eyes widen. Amelia, having just sipped her orange juice as Bill issued his sarcastic compliment of Eric's shirt, promptly spewed her juice all over the table. Hoyt and Hunter, sitting across from Amelia, found themselves pelted with juice droplets.

"Ew, Ame. What the fuck?" This from Hunter.

"Geez, Ame. Already took a shower." This from Hoyt.

"Yeah," Hunter went on, laughing. "You got our new t-shirts dirty."

At being reminded of her brothers' t-shirts, Amelia's cackle grew louder. Choking with laughter, the girl leaned over the side of the table in hysterics. Once her laughing jag had finally played itself out of her system, she sat up.

Although the room was silent, the tension could be cut with a knife. Eric and Bill continued to stare at one another. Tara, determined to ignore the uncomfortable atmosphere, piped up then.

"Hey, Bill, I'm Tara, Sook's sister. This is," she gestured to Maxine who stood beside her, "our friend, Maxine Fortenberry."

Bill nodded, barely registering Tara and Maxine's presence. He continued to glare at Eric. Eric cooly met Bill's appraisal.

Finally, the pressure in the room was just too much for Tara. Shaking her head, she whispered to Maxine, "Jesus H, lets go help Pam. Pronto." Maxine nodded in agreement. Louder, Tara announced to the room at large, "We're going to go help with breakfast. See you all in a bit."

On her way out, Maxine placed her sunglasses on the table next to Amelia. Their eyes meeting briefly, the older woman smiled encouragingly at the girl. Ame smiled back but also rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion eliciting a snort from Maxine.

Nodding to Eric who still stood by the doorway, Tara and Maxine hurried off to the kitchen.

Eric, deciding on a seat, passed behind Amelia to sit in the spot next to Maxine's claimed seat.

Bill, meanwhile, hadn't taken his eyes off Eric since the actor had walked into the room. While Eric had appeared to ignore Bill's relentless stare as he walked in, once he sat down, he turned his chair slightly so he could meet Bill's stare head on without craning his neck.

Everyone else in the room was silent. Finally Hunter, in a Stackhouse whisper that could be heard in Shreveport, observed to Hoyt, "What the fuck? If this is breakfast, I'm not liking the looks of today."

Hoyt nodded silently in agreement to his brother's assessment. But he didn't pull his gaze away from the Eric-Bill stare down. Even though nothing was happening, he feared missing something.

Amelia, too, sat riveted at Bill and Eric's stare-down.

Pam, carrying plates and silverware, entered the dining room. About to announce breakfast was ready, her words died on her lips as she realized everyone was in stare-down mode. She rolled her eyes.

"Ont-ils dit quelque chose?" She asked Amelia. [Did they say something?]

"Pas vraiment." [Not really.]

Pam turned to go back to the kitchen to supervise Tara and Maxine. At the doorway, she encountered the one Stackhouse who had yet to make an appearance that morning: Sookie.

"Hmmm, good morning Sookie. We've been waiting for you."

"What?" Puzzled Sookie looked at Pam. "Why? What's going on?"

"Oh, you'll see." Pam winked and continued her trek back to the kitchen.

Shrugging at Pam's bizarre greeting Sookie entered the dining room. Wearing a simple white and flowy low-cut summer dress, it was obvious she to all she had a bikini on underneath it.

"Hey, you all," Sookie sung out, her voice chipper despite the turmoil that raged beneath the surface.

Upon hearing her voice, Eric's eyes immediately flew to Sookie. He thought she looked beautiful. Forgetting about Bill, he smiled at her. Sookie briefly met his gaze but found herself nearly undone by the look in his eyes. Averting her eyes, she turned to look at Bill. It was then she realized Bill was sullenly staring at Eric. Picking up on the fact that she'd walked in on some weird alpha male posturing stand-off, Sookie walked over to Bill. Her focus only on the desire to have a "nice" and "quiet" breakfast, she decided to do what she could to alleviate the palpable tension in the room.

"Hey, Bill," she hugged him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You sleep good?"

That seemed to shake Bill from his alpha male trance. Pulling his eyes from Eric, he focused on Sookie. "Well, darling," he replied. "I slept as well as I could—without you beside me."

Bill wrapped his arms possessively around Sookie. Sookie, trying to straighten, found herself trapped in his tight grasp.

_Way to go, Bill_, Sookie thought. _So much for trying to steer him away from the chest thumping. Maybe you'd like to piss on my leg while you're at it._

Attempting repeatedly to pull herself from Bill's grasp, Sookie was finally able to extricate herself from his octopus arms. Looking at Bill, her face contorted in confusion. "Bill, why're you wearing your sunblocker cap in the house?"

A wave of 'Thank God' flowed through the dining room as everyone realized Sookie had asked the million-dollar question. With bated breath they turned to hear Bill's response.

"Darling, you know how sensitive my skin is. My father had a very large mole removed. Though it turned out not to be melanoma, one can never be too careful. It's not just direct sunlight that's dangerous. Non-direct ambient sunlight is a hazard as well." Bill glanced around the table to emphasize his point. "You must all take care to cover your bodies appropriately."

"Je pense que je vais vomir," Amelia muttered to no one. [I think I'm going to vomit.]

Eric, knowing French, snorted in surprise before he could stop himself. He attempted to cover it up by pretending to cough.

Although Sookie didn't know what Amelia had said, she knew her sister well enough to know it couldn't have been nice. Biting her lower lip, she threw a peeved look at Eric.

Bill, in the meantime, had decided he did not like Sookie exposing her "assets" so freely with Northman in the room. He thought his mini-lecture on the hazards of ambient sunlight was the perfect segue.

"Speaking of self-care, darling, I know I cannot convince you to forego with your slow suicide-by-sunbathing rituals, but aren't you cold, dressed like that? You'll catch a chill. I know this is Louisiana but still it's only May, darling. Can't have you sniffling. Here," he started to shrug out of his sweater, "wear my sweater."

Bill stood up and, before Sookie had a chance to register what was happening, he had put his green sweater on her. Sookie looked down at the pukey greenish sweater that now covered up her dress. Without a thought, she inadvertently allowed a scowl to work its way onto her face.

Amelia, watching her sister like a hawk, laughed at Sookie's grimace. Sookie's head shot up to glare at her younger sister. Weighing her options, Sookie finally decided to just roll up the sleeves of the sweater. As much as she detested Bill's possessive bullshit, she really didn't feel like getting into an argument with him right then. All she wanted was a quiet mental health day.

Pam, Maxine, and Tara entered the dining room bearing breakfast trays. Maxine took her seat between Amelia and Eric, while Tara took the vacant spot between Hoyt and Jason. This left two seats open at the table. One was located at the head of the table —directly across from Bill. This was the spot Sookie had grown accustomed to sitting at. The second vacant spot was at the other end of the table, at a corner, sandwiched between Bill and Eric.

Sookie went to take her usual spot only to find that Pam, sprinting around the table in her five-inch pumps, had beaten her to it.

Sookie glowered at the woman. "Pam, you're in my seat."

"Sookie, this isn't grade school. We haven't assigned seats. Besides, I'm sure your fiancé would like it if you sat next to him." Pam smiled sweetly, pointing a finger at the vacant seat between Eric and Bill.

"Sookie, darling." Bill paused. _What was the woman's name?_ _Oh, yes, that's right._ "Your friend Pat," at this 'Pat's' eyes widened in shock, "is right. I'd love to have you right here beside me." He leaned forward, patting the vacant seat to his left.

Sookie, looking over toward Bill, couldn't help but steal a glance at Eric. The hungry look on his face gave her chills. _Stop, stop_ she told herself.

"Ah, okay. Sure, Bill," Sookie finally acquiesced. Making her way around the table, Sookie threw Pam a dirty look. Pam's smile widened.

Sookie, once settled into her seat between Bill and Eric, finally, glancing around at her siblings, noticed the t-shirts. _What the hell? "_Hey, where'd you all get the fucked-up t-shirts?"

Amelia was the first one to answer. "Sook, you know I don't have any clothes until Octavia gets off her fat ass." Bill scowled at Amelia's profanity, while Amelia just ignored him. "Pam lent me this shirt. Isn't it cool?"

"Uh, sure, Amelia. It's interesting. Maybe not my first choice," she threw slanted-eyed look at Pam who just smiled, "for a 13-year-old. But, then again, I wouldn't let a 13-year-old drive my car, either."

Pam, pouting, glared at Sookie. Sookie smiled at Amelia to let her know the 'dig' was directed at Pam, not her. Still intent on uncovering the mystery of the t-shirts, Sookie turned to her brothers.

"Hoyt? Hunt? Where'd you get your shirts?"

"I found them in my room," said Hunter.

"Really?"

"Yep. We gave one to Eric." Hunter pointed to Eric.

"Yeah, as a 'thanks for everything.'" Hoyt threw in quickly.

Sookie hadn't gotten a good look at Eric's t-shirt—honestly, she had studiously been trying _not_ to look at Eric because even out of the corner of her eye, it was obvious that his abs were visible through his ridiculously tight t-shirt. Unfortunately, she had taken a sip of orange juice just before turning to glance at Eric. Shocked to see the actor wearing a "Douche Bag" t-shirt with a douche bag character that—sadly—looked way too much like Bill, Sookie's reaction was identical to Amelia's reaction to Bill's comment. Before she could stop herself, Sookie had sprayed Eric with orange juice at zero range.

"Ah!" Sookie, horrified, grabbed a napkin and frantically started patting down Eric's t-shirt. Feeling his solid chest through the thin cotton, she bit her lower lip and a rosy hue quickly covered her face. "Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry. I guess I was…uh…surprised by your shirt" she finished lamely.

"Sookie," Eric, laughing, stilled her hand as she'd been patting him down like she was trying to put out a fire. He held her hand and lowered it to her side. "It's fine. It's just a silly t-shirt. I wasn't planning on leaving it _on_." As Eric spoke, he emphasized his words by quirking an eyebrow.

Sookie, possibly reading more into his last words than was actually intended, felt her face redden more. Wordlessly, she nodded and turned back to the table.

Bill, from his position a few feet away, had observed the entire interaction. Not liking it in the least, he contracted his brow in disapproval.

As everyone dug into breakfast, some of the awkwardness —blessedly—dissipated. The group turned their collective attention to everyone's respective plans for the day.

Sookie, for the most part, was silent during breakfast. Basking in her mortification, her most ardent desire was for the meal to end without any further incident. All she wanted was to go outside and relax in the sun for a few hours. Sipping her juice, she was startled to feel something on her left leg.

"Oh…" she breathed. She closed her eyes and almost groaned as Eric's fingertips gently grazed her kneecap, then traveled above her knee, finally inching towards her inner thigh. Her eyes shot open with a start and she clamped her legs shut to keep him from any further invasion.

"Ah!" she let out a stifled noise.

Eric barked in laughter, quickly covering it with a cough.

Pam, having a good idea of what was going on, smirked.

Amelia shot a questioning glance at Pam.

"L'acteur se sent ta sœur." [The actor is feeling up your sister.]

"Cela vaut mieux que l'idiot." [Better he than the idiot.]

Pam nodded in agreement.

Bill, watching Sookie, frowned. "Are you okay, darling?"

"Yes. Yes, Bill. I'm fine," she replied. "I just need to run to the bathroom is all."

Bill made a face.

"Now, Bill. You know, every girl's got her human needs," Sookie said, standing.

"Yes, darling." Bill never understood why Sookie's human needs were constantly a topic of conversation. His own lovely mother kept such details thankfully private.

Once Sookie left the room, talk of the day's activities resumed. Jason was taking the kids out to Hotshot to apologize to Cal Myers and, hopefully, talk the Norrises down. Then the plan was to stop by at an electronics store and buy a security camera for the tree house. Time permitting, they might also stop by the Apple store in Shreveport to replace Ame's cell phone and get one for Hunter. Jason might be picking up hours on the road crew though, so he was hoping to meet up with Catfish Hennessey in the late afternoon.

Eric, as much as he didn't want to leave Sookie alone with Bill, did not think his hanging around watching the couple all day would result in anything positive. As high-handed as he could be, Eric wanted Sookie to come to her own conclusions about any decisions she felt she still needed to make regarding himself and Bill. He figured her having some alone time with Bill —Eric stole a glance at the man and buried a snort—might help facilitate the inevitable _denouement_. So Eric offered to go with Jase and the kids to Hotshot. It was possible his presence might help smooth some ruffled feathers, as Pam had suggested.

"Aw, how far you willing to go to help us get in the clear, Eric?" Jason asked.

"You joke, Jason, but I've been telling Eric for a long time, he could do well as a man-whore."

Tara laughed while Maxine gave Pam a shocked-yet-thrilled look. The kids, oblivious to the adult overtones, focused on their breakfasts.

Bill, observing, just stared at them all with a disgusted look upon his face. _So, this is Camp Stackhouse? _he thought. Once the inane chatter had died down, Bill decided to ask Eric some questions.

"Eric," Bill said. "I read that you're filming a television show in Shreveport. Is that right?"

"Yes," Eric nodded.

"Is it doing well? I don't watch television—frankly I don't have the time beyond, of course, The McLaughlin Group and several other programs focused on the economy. I am an economist, you know."

"Ah, yes. Of course." Eric couldn't remember if he did, in fact, know that. Considering how crappy the economy was, he figured he shouldn't be surprised. He himself recognized how lucky he had it. Escapism was big during lousy economies. The Great Depression actually correlated with the beginning of Hollywood's heyday. Realizing Bill's droning voice was still directed at him, Eric forced himself to listen.

"So, Eric, is it?" asked Bill.

"What?" replied Eric.

Fuck. Bill actually rolled his eyes at _him_. Eric, chagrined, realized that to spare himself some embarrassment, he was going to have to pay attention to the ass.

"Your show? Is it doing well? I know how fleeting a career in acting can be. Really, you should be taking all the money you're earning now and placing it in some long-term growth mutual funds. Because, once you're older, your acting opportunities will diminish considerably. Can't live off our good looks forever," Bill laughed, his tone reeking of condescension.

Eric, meanwhile, wanted to throw Bill through the glass doors. "Thanks for the advice, Bill. But, I have plenty of money. Probably enough to live several lifetimes." He was exaggerating, but he didn't care. "I can appreciate your concern, of course. I imagine it's hard being an economist these days, with the economic collapse. Unless you were one of the few who warned that the secondary mortgage markets absorbing junk mortgages and the home equity-fueled spending was just a 'smoke-and-mirrors' bubble that would ultimately tank the world economy, I imagine your credibility as an economist would be quite suspect now, wouldn't it?"

Catching flies. All Stackhouses. Maxine, meanwhile, understood what Eric was talking about. She was just shocked Eric did too.

Pam, as she had known him for years, knew Eric was smart and followed boring, annoying things like economic trends, real estate, and politics. Curious to see the Douche Bag's response, she sat with her eyes riveted to Bill.

Bill, sitting silently, squinted his eyes in anger, as he digested Eric's diatribe. Pam saw him wince, a pained expression on his face. She thought he looked constipated. Or possibly it was the opposite. Maybe he was having a bad reaction to his bran muffin?

"So, where do you live when you're filming?" Bill asked Eric.

"Well, actually, that is an interesting question —" Eric started to explain.

Sookie, who had been gone at least 15 minutes, picked that moment to return. Hot and bothered by Eric's playing 'Discovery Channel' on her lap, she had locked herself in the bathroom to wash up and calm down. After several long minutes of deep breaths, she felt much better. In fact, she felt so much better, she hadn't wanted to rejoin the breakfast club. Conceding that she'd have to return eventually, she managed to delay it as long as she could.

Hearing Bill's question and the opening of Eric's response, Sookie was immediately back on edge. She figured her trepidation was well founded since she'd just heard her soon-to-be-ex-fiancé ask her all-of-a-sudden-new-beau where he lived. Her knee-jerk reaction was fear that Eric was going to spill the beans about the plans for the house. Why Sookie thought revealing this—it was, after all, the truth—seemed like such a bad idea, she couldn't have explained. Without a second thought, she did the one thing she could think of to prevent Eric from responding to Bill's question: she screamed.

"AHHH!"

At the sound of Sookie screaming, all conversation came to a halt. On a dime everyone turned to stare at her. Even Long Shadow, lying on the floor by the side of the table, popped his head up to look at her. They all continued to watch as Sookie stood frozen in the doorway, a "deer in headlights" expression on her face.

Finally Jason broke the awkward silence. "Jesus, Sook," he said, "you got some more of those 'human needs' you gotta take care of?"

"Oh, no," Sookie blushed. "I thought I saw a…panther outside and it startled the hell out of me."

A few of them turned to look toward the glass doors, but no one spotted the offending animal. Although she'd barely eaten, Sookie did not want to sit next to Eric's dangerously wandering hands again. She decided, instead, to go stand over by the glass doors behind Bill. Feeling way too overheated, she removed Bill's 'Irritating Professor Sweater' and dropped it onto an ottoman.

Eric, of course, caught on to the true reason for Sookie's scream. Respecting her obvious preference that he not say anything about his moving to the farm, he told Bill only that he lived in a hotel usually during filming. Looking past Bill, Eric's eyes sought Sookie's.

"But I'm actually looking for something more permanent. More homelike."

Sookie started at his words. _Is he really courting me in front of my fiancé?_ she wondered.

"Oh, I can understand that," Bill replied. Bill, without turning, reached his arm behind him feeling around for Sookie and, finding her, brought her forward and sat her on his lap. Sitting up straight, Sookie was careful not to lean onto Bill's chest. "I'm looking forward to Sookie and I marrying so we can live together and establish our own home together."

Sookie's wan smile was not lost on Eric but her face quickly became expressionless.

As breakfast wrapped up, Pam, Tara and Maxine started to clear out the dining room and return it to its pre-meal state.

Eric looked on, unseeing, his face inscrutable. He glanced over at Sookie, who was sliding open the glass doors that lead out to the front porch. He noted that Bill had resurrected his newspaper from where he'd stashed it under the table and seemed content to pick up where he'd left off.

Traditionally, a 'take charge' type, Eric found it against his nature not to act. This situation wasn't an easy one for him. Although Sookie hadn't broken things off with Bill yet, Eric could tell by her body language that she was doing whatever she could to put space between her and Bill. Of course, she had been ready to kill Pam for forcing her to sit next to _him_ and had screamed bloody murder at his touch, but that was besides the point.

All things considered, Eric thought things were progressing rather well. Despite her hesitance, he knew he and Sookie were good together on a basic, fundamental level. As far as Eric could see, there was only one possible impediment to their future proceeding easily.

That impediment was named Bill.

Now that Eric had met Bill, he saw that the man was his own worst enemy. Eric no longer viewed Bill as competition for Sookie's affections. Rather, he'd come to view Bill just as a potential troublemaker.

During his musings, Eric had leaned back in his chair, he hands linked behind his head. From her spot out on the porch, Sookie had stolen several covert glances in his direction.

Suddenly someone's voice pulled them both out of their reveries.

"What the fuck is that smell?" Tara, frowning, crinkled her nose in displeasure and conducted a quick examination of the room. Suddenly she bent down and peered under the table.

"Oh, shit!"

Eric, sitting up, bent down to look under the table. The kids, back from delivering their plates to the kitchen, came over to look as well. Hunter was the first one to speak.

"Hey, ah, Bill?"

Bill, responding in his usual manner, didn't acknowledge the boy. He continued to read his newspaper.

Tara wasn't having any of his nonsense this time around.

"Oh, for fucks sake, Bill! The dog took a crap on your sweater. I gotta say, it _was_ the color of shit. Maybe he just got confused." With that Tara rolled her eyes, grabbed the condiments, and left to rejoin Maxine and Pam in the kitchen, muttering to herself "what the hell does she see in him?"

Amelia, Hoyt and Hunter looked at their sister's departing form and laughed. Tara was usually pretty ladylike, but when she felt like cutting loose, she really went for it.

"You know something?" Hunter, returning to his inspection of the 'situation' under the table, had a theory. "Hoyt, that's not like his normal turds. See that?" Hunter was pointing. "I think he must've got into Bill's muffin."

At Hunter's innocent comment, Eric and Jason both burst out laughing. Bill, finally lowering his newspaper, settled his angry look at Eric. He bent down to peer under the table. Sure enough, his lovely Lovat Cover Shawl–Collar Cardigan from Orvis that had been a gift from mother was no more.

Bill rose to his feet and, without a word, stalked off with his newspaper. In the aftermath of his sudden, angry departure, those remaining in the room fell silent.

"Wonder where he's going?" Hoyt finally asked.

"Hoyt," Hunter stood up. "You see how tight he was holding his butt? He's obviously going to" Hunter inserted air quotes here, "'read'. Where the hell else would he go? He doesn't do anything else."

That set those remaining in the dining room—Jason, Eric and the three kids—off on a new round of laughter.

Suddenly, Jason realized his most immediate duty as the newly-christened 'head of the household.'

"Aw, fuck. Who's gonna help me clean up this shit?"

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AN: Thanks for reading/reviewing. Don't forget to vote for Funniest ROTSS character on my Fanfic profile. Someone's got to vote for Bill. C'mon. The Douche Bag's hysterical! Maybe I'll vote for him. **

**:D**


	53. The Breakfast Club

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Three: The Breakfast Club**

After breakfast, the breakfast club dispersed to their individual day's pursuits.

Tara, looking forward to spending time with JB, was hoping to bounce some ideas off of him, not the least of which involved her sister's fiance. During breakfast clean up with Pam and Maxine, Pam had informed the other two women of Bill's morning altercation with Amelia. Hearing this tale, Tara was no longer inclined to give Bill any more benefits of the doubt.

Tara was of the opinion that Sookie could do better than Bill. As far as Tara could tell, Sookie could die a spinster and it would be better. Not that she really thought that was likely, considering the attentions of one Eric Northman. Frustrated, Tara couldn't help but think her sister was just incredibly fucking dense sometimes.

Sookie, meanwhile, finally got her wish. Left to her own devices, she hid out on the porch, sitting on the swing. Eventually she dragged a lounge chair out to the lawn where she just parked herself in the sun. Fortunately, her more than odd behavior at breakfast had scored her a"let's leave Sookie alone" pass from everyone, she laughed grimly to herself. Thankfully that included Bill too! After his apish performance, she was not in a mood for his jealousy fueled lecturing. Really, she had no idea what crawled up his ass and died.

Jason was glad they were finally getting the trip to Hotshot out of the way. He needed to prove to Sook that the kids responded to him as an authority figure. Just the same, he was pleased Eric had offered to come along. Jason had a bit of a history with Tanya Grissom. It had been so long ago, he wasn't sure if she'd even remember. He'd also hooked up once with a Crissy Myers—way, way back. Like when he was in his teens. He might not have even remembered the hook-up except the lady told some really scary werewolf stories—and Hotshot being Hotshot—it freaked Jason out wondering if they were true.

Pam finally got around to calling the dealers about the cars and found out her Mercedes was ready for pickup while Eric's Corvette still needed an extra day of TLC. She rolled her eyes upon hearing the news.

_Go figure. Even his car is a pussy,_ Pam thought.

Eric's car not being ready actually fed into Pam's plan. Having better insight into Douche Bag Bill, Pam figured the best thing to do was to let he and Sookie spend some quality time together. Whatever faults the Barracuda had, Pam was certain she wasn't a complete dolt. Sure, Sookie seemed to be short on confidence. She was holier-than-thou and a know-it-all to a fault (again Pam thought, _Perfect match for Eric_.) But she was intelligent and beautiful. Pam could see no reason why the girl would want to saddle herself to the Retarded Mister Rogers for the rest of her life. Not when she could have a Plundering Viking.

So Pam figured she'd ask to borrow Sookie's car and she and Maxine would go drive out to Monroe to pick up her car and then drive back. Of course, there was no reason for them to hurry back. Poor Maxine had been marooned in the house for days. Maybe they could go shopping. Get lunch. See a movie. Get the cars detailed. Yes, Pam saw no reason to hurry back. With everyone out, it would definitely give Sookie and Douche Bag some quality time together.

Pam just needed to remember to talk to Eric about buying some extra surveillance equipment when they were at the electronics store. She needed to figure out what to put on Santa's list…Hmm…

As for Maxine, the woman was more than willing to go along with Pam's plan. Frankly Maxine was starting to feel a bit cooped up at the farm. Although she had to admit she had been fine up until breakfast with Daniel Boone. But it was a good reality check. She needed to get her head together and make some plans to make her move permanent. She needed her car is what she needed. Although given the fact that her car was rather old and 1,500 miles away, she was wondering if it might just be smart to buy a new one. So, Maxine was very receptive to Pam's suggestion of going to the dealership. Maxine also found herself kind of excited—but also slightly nervous- at the idea of spending the whole day with Pam.

Pam, in the meantime, had gone up to check in with Eric. Recognizing her impatient knock, Eric called aquick "Come in."

Quirking her eyebrow, Pam gave Eric's wardrobe change into a black biker wifebeater her smirk of approval.

"Hmmm, Eric. The arm porn…The White Trash Brigade won't know what hit them. Jason wearing one too?"

Eric just looked at her, shaking his head with a smile. She was really incredible. "Pam. Need I remind you we're going out there with the kids?"

"Of course I remember that Eric," Pam made herself comfortable sitting on the edge of Eric's bed. "Those kids already have you pimped out to their sister. You think they'd have qualms about you letting the 'little Norseman' set sail and plunder to make the Problems in Podunk go away?"

Eric just shook his head. Pam really could be incorrigible. "What is it, Pam? You didn't just come up here to say that, did you?"

Pam slanted her eyes. Of course he knew she'd walk miles in poorly crafted heels to tease him. She lived for it. "Well, actually, I did want to talk you about something. You are bringing the kids to the electronics shop after Trashville, right?"

"I believe that is the plan, yes. We need to get a camera to fix on the tree house."

"Well, I need a video camera, too. It is for a new film short I'm going to do on nature and wildlife. You know how much I hate breaking fingernails, so if you could be mindful of that when you make the selection, I'd appreciate it. It must have high resolution, however."

Eric raised an eyebrow. This sounded so unlike Pam, he was certain something was up. "A film short on nature and wildlife? Pam, you think I was born yesterday?"

_Hmmm. What to say?_ Thought Pam. "I observed some animals outside having sex. I was intrigued by the position they achieved. I would like to emulate it if possible, but I think having it on film would be helpful."

Oh. Now that sounded more like Pam. Eric rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Viking. You're the one who is all about being naked, Nature Boy. So, I'm finally taking an interest in God's creatures. Who are you to judge what piques my interest?"

"Fine, Pam. You're right. Again. I apologize. There is nothing inappropriate about setting up your own surveillance camera to film wildlife creatures having sex in the yard."

"Thank you. I appreciate your support. Of course, you owe me a pair of pumps. You make these purchases and we'll call it even."

"Of course. Wait a minute. Purchases? Plural? How many cameras do you want?"

"Just the one camera. I do need a second item. A very small wireless sound-activated recorder."

_A very small wireless sound-activated recorder? That sounds like a bug_, Eric thought. Startled, he wanted to confirm his suspicion. "Pamela," she pouted at his use of her full name, "are you asking me to buy a bug?"

"What would you say if I said 'yes'?"

"I'd say 'no'."

"Well, then, 'no'. That's not what I'm asking you to buy."

"Then," Eric paused, a questioning look on his face, "what exactly are you asking me to buy?"

"A very small, wireless sound-activated recorder."

Eric just stared at Pam, an expectant look on his face. _Yes?_ The look said.

Pam, seeing Eric was going to be a pain-in-the-ass, decided to go the 'I'm-a-girl-route.' She almost smiled. Sookie laid quite the foundation with all that disturbing 'human needs' talk. Really, that girl was too damn amusing. "I'm having some interesting…uh…female issues. It's not exactly clear. I am thinking a little recorder—" She stopped speaking at the look of repulsion on Eric's face. In a span of ten seconds he'd managed to achieve a look of white, stone-faced horror that typically took the make-up artists at least two hours to perfect on him.

"Pam, that's okay. Don't say another word. Just tell me what it is you want."

_Hm, never underestimate how much a man does not want to know about the female biology_. Pam went on to explain the functionality she wanted in her very small wireless recording device.

"Pam, whatever you have planned with this. Please keep me on a 'need-to-know' basis. By that, I mean, I really do not need to know. Not ever. Am I making myself understood?"

Pam smirked at Eric. "Yes, dad."

"So, what are you doing today, anyway?"

"My car is ready. I'm planning on taking the Barracuda's car to go pick it up. Maxine is coming with me. We're gonna have a girls' day out."

Eric nodded. So Pam and Maxine were going to be out of the house. JB had already picked up Tara. He and Jason were going out with the kids. That left Bill and Sookie home alone. While he did not like that idea on principle, he understood that, like taking castor oil, it was a necessary cure. He just hoped, Bill and Sookie being left alone in the house didn't backfire on him. In all honesty, he could not imagine anything happening between them.

Pam, observing Eric, could tell what was going on inside his mind, despite the facade. Eric had always been extremely protective of his emotions—he was very effective in masking them. But Pam had known him too long. She could read him like a book.

Looking at him now, she fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself. _Why do I do this?_

"Eric, get a grip," she said. Eric glanced at her, questioningly. "You're not going to lose. I mean you were there. You saw it yourself. That Douche Bag is set on self-destruct. Even if she's left alone with him all day, you really think when she looks at Angsty Mama's Boy, she's gonna think 'I need me a piece of that'?"

_Yeah. Or a piece of his_ muffin, Eric smiled remembering.

Pam, while crude sometimes, often was able to cut away through the morass and get straight to the was right. Sookie was no fool. Eric had observed her body language at breakfast. She wanted nothing more than to get away from Bill every time he laid his hands on her and attempted to draw her towards him.

Standing by his bedroom window, Eric looked down into the yard below. He could see Sookie out in front of the house. He wondered if she realized just how optimal her sunbathing spot was situated for him to enjoy the view.

As if she were reading his thoughts, Sookie sat up in her lounge and turned around to glance up at the house. She looked right at his window.

_Guess there's my answer_, he thought. He smiled down at her but he doubted she could see his face in the shade. He watched her as she laid back down on her lounge.

Eric focused his attention on Pam, who had been silently observing him from where she sat perched on his bed. They often had a weird power dynamic in their relationship. It shifted frequently, with the balance of power advancing and receding between them. Sure, he paid her to manage his career. But that financial contract was a drop in the bucket of what defined their relationship. He decided he'd give it to her.

"Pam?"

Quirked brow. Impatient gaze. Unspoken 'yes, I'm waiting'?

"You're right." He grinned at her.

She smiled back at him. Rising from the bed, she walked over to him and gave him a hug and a light peck on the cheek.

"I know."

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**AN: Thanks for reading and (hint hint) reviewing! I have Chapter 54. It's not all done, but if I feel encouraged, I could probably get it done tonight. It's chilly in NYC. Gonna make some hot cocoa. I'll be up for a while. Yep. Could get it done. Next chappie is a good one too. Don't forget to vote for Funniest ROTSS character on my Fanfic profile. No one has voted for Bill yet. C'mon. The Douche Bag's hysterical! **

**Next Up: White Trash Brigade, Part II**

**:D**


	54. White Trash Brigade, Part 2

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Four: White Trash Brigade, Part 2**

Anxious to corral the group and get them all on their way to Hotshot, Jason didn't give a rat's ass whether or not the kids wore the foul-mouthed t-shirts. But he knew Sookie wouldn't be happy with him letting the kids leave the house wearing the shirts. So he tried to talk them into changing.

Of course, Sook was lying out back with Nut Job. As far as Jason could tell, Sookie seemed to be becoming a bit of a nut job herself. Spouting off about her "human needs". Seeing panthers. He could only figure it was on account of her spending so much time with the Douche Bag. Eric better seal the deal.

"Hey y'all. You guys think maybe you ought to change out of those t-shirts? Might be a little…uh…insulting." Jason looked at his younger siblings. Hoyt, Hunter, and Amelia exchanged glances. Meeting each other's eyes, they then dropped their gazes and checked out each other's t-shirts. They burst out laughing. Again.

"Naw, Jase. C'mon! They're funny. 'Party Pooper!'" Hunter paused to laugh. "Even those inbred Hotshot folks will know that's funny."

"Yeah, Jase. It's not like the shirts are—uh, about them." Hoyt paused and turned to fill Eric in on Hotshot. "The folks in Hotshot are kind of fucked-up cousin-marrying hicks, but they're not, uh, douche bags."

"Yeah," Amelia threw in her two cents. "Not like," she paused and gave a theatrical shiver—Eric had to concede she wasn't half-bad- "some people. I know for a fact, Jase," she looked over at her older brother, "some of them are Lesbians. So I don't think my t-shirt'll insult anyone."

Jason raised his eyebrows and nodded silently. He mouthed a silent "okay, then," to Eric. "All right, everyone. Get in." He clicked open the car doors.

"SHOTGUN! SHOTGUN! SHOTGUN!" All three kids screamed simultaneously as they ran to the front seat.

"Hey. Hey. HEY! Y'all, listen up. Eric's riding shotgun. Dude's like 7 feet tall. We're not gonna squish 'im in the back. Where're your manners?"

Properly chastised, the kids threw apologetic glances over to Eric. "Sorry" they grumbled.

"That's right." Jason met Eric's eyes over the car roof.

Eric nodded to him an encouraging, "well done." Jason smiled back appreciatively.

_Whoa, managing the kids is like being in the Navy. Just tell them what's up and don't let them give you shit. _

Suddenly there was barking. Coming closer. Closer. Closer. "Woof, woof." As the party began to climb into the car, it didn't take long for them to realize they had a problem.

"Uh, Hoyt?" Hunter began tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"Get your diarrhea dog off my lap!"

"Whoa—" Jason turned around from his place behind the driver's wheel. "Long Shadow's coming?"

"Yeah, he has to, Jase. I can't leave him with Douche Bag. He'll do something douchey to him because Shad shit on his sweater." Hunter petted Long Shadow, while Amelia hugged him, saying 'good boy!' Hoyt looked at Jason. His eyes were pleading.

Jason looked back at his brother and the dog. "Aw, fuck." He let out a frustrated sigh. Eric took this all in, a smile playing at his lips. If asked, he probably would be hard-pressed to say what he found more amusing. The kids. Or Jason struggling to rein them in.

Jason looked thoughtfully at the two boys and the dog sitting in the back seat. Amelia stood outside the car,waiting. Finally she decided she'd been patient long enough. "I ain't stayin' here with the Douche Bag, either. Besides, I'm supposed to remove my spell. If I stay home, my spell will stay put."

"Oh, no. No." That decided it for Jason. He got out of the car and swung open the back door. "Get out." Hearing their brother's command, Hoyt and Hunter jumped out of the car. Long Shadow followed suit with a bark and a wag of his tail. Jason played with some mechanisms on the side of the rear seat. "Ame, look on the other side there. There's a lever. Pull it out and lower the seat forward." He demonstrated with his hand, showing her the movement.

With Amelia's help the rear seat folded forward, opening up the space in the trunk. Jason turned to his two brothers, who stood, watching behind him. "Now. I don't care if Long Shadow's lying in the trunk or if you two are. Ame sits on the rear of the seat. Now, get in the car."

Just like Wise King Solomon, Jason solved the dilemma of Long Shadow. Getting back into the car, he nodded to Eric. "Now, I know you're probably all about Volvo, being Swedish and all. But see that?" Jason gestured with his thumb to the back seat where Amelia and Hunter were now sitting cross-legged and Hoyt and Long Shadow were sprawled out, their bodies hidden in the trunk. "That is why Volkswagens are fuckawesome."

"Point taken." Eric laughed.

After a brief drive—during which the kids introduced Jason and Eric to their favorite car game—Douche Bag Alphabet—the group found themselves on the outskirts of Hotshot. Looking around the crossroads, Eric's memory settled on a phrase he had heard from Sookie. "The Place Where People Go to Die." Glancing around Hotshot, he thought the moniker an appropriate one. "So, I take it you guys don't come out this way much."

With a raised eyebrow, Jason shook his head. Tiny, old houses nestled together in tightly clustered lots. One intersection, the houses radiated outward from each of the four corners. Houses without numbers and mailboxes lacking names—not that that made much of a difference—as Jason pointed out as he answered Eric's question. "No, not much. Half the folks here are Norris's. The other half are Harts. Then there's a half that are Myers."

"Jase, that's impossible," Hoyt started to disagree. "You can't have three halves—"

Seeing Jason's shaking his head, Hoyt fell silent. After a moment, he found his voice. "OOOOH! I get it."

Jason nodded, followed by Amelia and Hunter. Eric, amused, just grinned and shook his head.

In any event, despite the fact that the kids had JUST BEEN THERE, they couldn't point out Cal Myers' house.

"Hey. How'd you find his house last time?" Jason glanced at his younger siblings in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, well," Hunter paused, remembering. "We spotted him outside and just stalked him."

"Yeah, Jase," Hoyt agreed. "Kind of like an animal."

Jason shook his head. "You stalked the kid?"

"Uh, yeah." This was from Hoyt.

After driving slowly down the east-west road for the third time, Jason let out a frustrated breath. "Fuck-all, this is frustrating," Jason cursed. Eric silently concurred. Just when Jason was about to pull over, they heard something hit the car.

"FUCK!" Jason hit the breaks, and stopped the car, pulling over to the side of the road.

"What the heck was that?" This from Hoyt.

"Sounded like someone threw a rock at the car." Amelia theorized.

Hunter, knowing how his oldest brother felt about his car, figured it was as good an opportunity as any to try to deep-six the 'apology shit.' _Fuck-all, the dick had been the one to start it. _They really shouldn't have to apologize. They should be kicking his ass. Agitated, he figured he'd reason with Jason in the language his brother knew best: Volkswagen.

"It had to have been that friggin' Cal Myers, Jase. He threw something at the Passat. I bet he fucked it up, too. You hear that 'pop' sound? There's definitely gonna be a ding. I know it. Can't we just go home and leave Ame's spell on him?"

Jason paused, pondering his brother's request.

_Fuck. My car. Goddam in-bred trash. Now I wanna beat the little fucker up. Dammit, this adult shit sucks. Does Sook have to be such a controlling pain-in-the-ass? So the kids scared the little bastard. Big deal. He'll wind up in jail eventually anyway. And Ame? Well, chances are —I fucking hope — she's not a witch, in which case, what does it matter if she put a spell on the little delinquent. If it happens that she is a witch, well, fuck, that's awesome. We need her to put more spells on more people._

Pondering the possibilities, Jason's thoughts were a whirlwind. A whirlwind that was clearly evident on his animated face. An animated face that Eric was easily able to read.

_Is he reconsidering? _Eric wondered incredulously.

Eric found himself battling the desire to say something. He figured rearing the kids was Jason's responsibility as 'head of the household' as well as Sookie's. He was smart enough to know butting in on this turf would likely brew trouble with the other 'head of the household.' He would only butt in if necessary. So…he remained silent and awaited the outcome of Jason's internal struggle.

_Fuck all_, Jason thought. He let out a breath. "No. Ame cannot leave her spell on Cal." With that Jason turned the engine off. "Everyone out. Inspect this car like your life depends on it."

They climbed out of the car and examined it for damage. Amelia soon announced she found something.

"Jase, there's a ding on the rear passenger door."

Everyone fell silent. Jason walked around to the passenger side where he squatted to get a better look at the ding. Running his hand along the car's smooth surface, he eyeballed the ding. Finally, upon deciding it could be easily fixed, he stood up.

"Okay," Jason nodded as he turned to face his siblings. "I'm getting a better idea of what this little prick is like."

"Thank God," Hunter let out a sigh of relief. "Kid's a damn parasite. Now we're gonna have to see him all the time in school."

"All the more reason for you kids to make nice," Jason pointed out, not unreasonably.

The three miniature Stackhouses looked at their older brother and groaned.

Suddenly they heard Long Shadow growl menacingly. Each of them had, more or less, the same thought: What the fuck is up with Long Shadow?

"Grrrr, grrrr."

All of a sudden they were no longer alone. Cal Myers appeared from nowhere. "Come back for more, Stackhouses? Didn't do enough when you were here the last time?"

Eric was impressed. The kid did have beady eyes. Hunter's description was pretty much on the mark.

"Hey, Cal," Jason greeted him. "Listen, we don't want any trouble. The kids just want to apologize to you and to your mom. Ame's gonna…uh…reverse her…uh…thingy. Is your mom home?" Cal nodded. Realizing that Amelia was there, the boy seemed a bit scared. Amelia, meanwhile, raised her hands and held them up, waving them menacingly as she stared at Cal.

Eric, a wry smile playing around his lips, was thinking how much Amelia reminded him of Pam. The more time he spent with Amelia, the easier it was to see the connection between the two.

"Well, then, can we go to your house?" Jason asked Cal.

Cal seemed to consider this. Weighing the options in his mind, he finally spoke. "Yeah, alright." He started to walk east. Without warning, the kid dropped to the ground and traveled the rest of the way on all fours, like a quadruped.

Jason looked over his shoulder and met Eric's eyes. He shrugged. Eric nodded back. Realizing Cal expected them to follow him, Jason took the lead in following Cal, but not before carefully locking the car. The three kids and Long Shadow followed closely behind Jason while Eric brought up the rear.

As the procession made its way through Hotshot, Hunter, immediately in front of Eric, turned around to face him. Mouthing the words "_sick fuck_," Hunter pointed to Cal, who continued to make his way up the road on all fours. Eric bit back a bark of laughter. If they weren't careful, the kids were going to get them into more than they bargained for.

Jason was silently berating himself for not thinking ahead and grabbing the old Benelli shotgun from the house.

Amelia, looking around circumspect, thought she could sense something in the air. Something… someone … Something not good…Not exactly the same sense she'd gotten from the strange Native American dude in the Natchitoches rest area, but a bad feeling nonetheless. Maybe not someone looking to bring death, but definitely someone looking to bring trouble. Chaos.

Thinking she heard a 'click,' Amelia suddenly spun around, startling Hunter and Eric, who were making their way directly behind her.

"What the fuck, Ame?" Hunter gave his sister a puzzled look.

"Everything okay, Amelia?" Eric thought she looked spooked.

"I – I thought I heard something." She stopped speaking and bit her lower lip. Seeing Amelia display a trait he'd observed countless times from Sookie caused Eric to shake his head bemused.

"What did you hear?"

"It sounded like a 'click.'"

A click? Usually when Eric heard clicks it meant one thing. But he seriously doubted that there were paparazzi in Hotshot, Louisiana. Glancing around at the strange plywood huts nestled in the woods, he thought he saw a figure move stealthily through the trees, about 15 yards away. He squinted his eyes.

"Also," Amelia continued, "since we got out of the car, no cars passed us. But I heard one coming and stop. I figured one of the Hotshotians must have gotten home, but I never saw anybody walk into a house." As Amelia whispered all this to Eric, Hunter listened in.

_She certainly has a flare for the dramatic_, Eric thought appreciatively.

Looking around at the houses along the quiet dusty road, Eric could feel eyes upon them. He shivered. This was definitely among the creepiest places he'd ever been. And he lived in Hollywood.

Finally, Cal halted his galloping in front of a two-story house that looked exactly like every other house on the road. He rose to stand upright.

Just then they heard a howling sound. The noise sounded like it came from somewhere above them?

What the fuck?

All of a sudden, someone—something—fell from a large cypress tree. Howling again, 'it' somehow landed on its feet like a champion gymnast vaulting off a sawhorse. The newcomer stood, with Cal a few yards away in one direction and Hunter a few yards away in the other direction. Hunter, seeing who it was, scowled.

The three boys stood, triangulated, and transfixed. There might as well have been no one else around, as they only had eyes for each other. Cal would stare at the newcomer—who appeared to be about 11, the same age as Cal and Hunter—and then would turn slightly and stare at Hunter.

Hunter, in the meantime, was reciprocating with death glares aimed at Cal. But he'd break it up every so often, and direct a 'death eye-whammy' at the new kid.

The new kid, sullen and angry, kept turning from Hunter to Cal, and back again. He threw them each looks of loathing.

This went on for several moments. The rest of the Stackhouse posse just watched, enthralled. Even Long Shadow was mostly quiet, whimpering rather than barking. The kids' epic staredown reminded Eric of the final duel scene in "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." He could almost hear the Ennio Morricone theme music in the background. He bit back a snicker.

In the distance, Amelia would've sworn she heard another 'click.' Jerking her head up, she looked over her shoulder in the direction they'd walked from. Her eyes encountered Eric's who also looked back towards the car. _Hm, he must've heard it that time_, Amelia thought. Hearing someone talk, she jerked her head back to the boys.

"Mel Hart. What the fuck do you want?" This was Cal's greeting to the interloper.

"Ah, what do I want? What do I want? You were supposed to bring me with you when you went to that Stackhouse treehouse, Cal. I was gonna enjoy busting it up."

"You fucking prick." Hunter, coldly seething, whispered these words in a low, guttural growl.

"Yeah? Me? He's the one who was getting us to pay him to knock down your squirrel hut like a piñata."

Mel pointed to Cal, who just stared back at Mel.

"For fucks sake, Cal. That true?" Hunter was livid.

"Yeah, it's true. You calling me a liar, Stackhouse?" Mel answered before Cal had a chance to.

"Naw, I'd call you a jackass but since you just fucking swung from a tree like a goddam monkey, I'll just call you a monkey. And you—" Hunter paused to turn to Cal, "you're another fucking animal. What the fuck was that, _asshole_? You slithered on all-fours like some jacked up nutria."

Click. Click.

Amelia heard it again and it was getting closer this time. She met Eric's gaze and he nodded, letting her know he heard it too. Hoyt scrunched up his face this time and glanced around, worriedly. He heard it too.

Jason, in the meantime, was coming to the realization that the three boys were about two seconds from a brawl. He figured if Sookie wasn't happy with the kids wearing fucked up t-shirts, she'd really have a problem with them getting into a fistfight with the kids of Hotshot.

"Hey, boys. Simmer down, simmer down. Mel? Is that your name?" Jason was thinking he'd try to use reason with them. But then he remembered that they were only 11.

Click. Click.

Eric was becoming increasingly positive that it was a camera. Either it was the unseen 'eyes' of Hotshot who were documenting the Stackhouses visit for posterity. Or they recognized him and were taking photographs to sell to the tabloids. Or, worst-case scenario—and Eric sincerely hoped this was not the case—there actually were paparazzi out there somewhere snapping photos of this altercation.

Just then, as if in slow-mo, Cal, yelling, launched himself at Mel. Mel fell to his knees, crumbling as Cal wrapped his arm around his neck in a chokehold. Hunter, seeing Mel getting the raw end of the deal, quickly put two and two together on the ages-old battle tactic known as 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' He jumped on Cal, trying to pull him off Mel.

"You fucking prick, Cal. I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. I'll have to get a rabies shot, but it'll be worth it!"

"Yeah, fuck you Stackhouse! What do you care about the treehouse, anyway? Your family moved to Texas. You're a _Texan_ now." Cal said this with a sneer, egging Hunter on like it was the worst insult ever.

Mel, in the meantime, slightly freed by Hunter's efforts, rediscovered his vocal chords. Rather than spew insults, he decided to just scream.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! MAMA! MAMA!"

The fight didn't take long to escalate. Despite their shock, Eric and Jason were quick to jump into the melee trying to pull the boys off one another. Of course, they didn't want to use force with the boys, so they were limited to just pulling and restraining.

Click. Click.

Amelia and Hoyt were looking around trying to locate the source of the 'clicks.' Long Shadow had started to bark at the first punch and Hoyt was trying to quiet him down, as he figured that the dog barking would not help this fucktarded situation one bit.

Between Jason and Eric, they'd nearly managed to separate the boys when suddenly the door of the nearest house was flung open. A woman with big, bleached blonde-white hair came out of the house wearing a blue nightgown.

Still working on separating the boys, Eric managed to spare a look at the woman. Fuck. He somehow refrained from laughing.

_I have to remember to apologize to Pam. To think I'd actually given her a hard time for exaggerating the charms of the 'White Trash Brigade_'.

Jason caught a glimpse of the newcomer and sucked in his breath in surprise. _Is that…? Oh, shit!_ He thought.

Hoyt, in the meantime, was staring, dumbfounded, at Crystal. He seemed nervous, possibly a little afraid of her. Unlike Jason and Eric, he noticed she brought something outside to greet them with. And it wasn't a pitcher of sweet tea.

Amelia, seeing the Hotshotian hick lady, swallowed a giggle. She was sorry she hadn't gotten her iPhone yet because she was positive she could sell a photo of that hag with a gun on ebay. That was even the perfect title: Hag with a Gun. Not to mention Pammy would've loved to see it.

Crystal, stalked out of the house, a shotgun in her hand. Walking towards the group, still very much embroiled in their skirmish, she held her shotgun up high, pointed it in the direction of the sky and pulled the trigger.

At the sound of the gunshot, Long Shadow made a break to run. Fortunately, Hoyt had put a leash on him once they left the car. He didn't want to lose Long Shadow. Especially not in Hotshot. Could wind up somebody's dinner. Hoyt shivered.

The boys let go of their chokeholds and stepped away from each other.

Following a few moments of tense silence, Crystal spoke.

"What're you Stackhouses doing here? I got a shotgun and I don't need much cause to use it. Especially on you, Jason Stackhouse. What the hell do you want?"

Eric had been all set to let Jason do the talking. Hearing Crystal's greeting, he was no longer certain that was a good idea.

Sookie had mentioned to Eric something about Jason getting himself into plenty of trouble with that "third leg" of his. She hadn't alluded to Jason having a history with Crystal Norris. Did she even know about her brother's obvious past encounter with Norris?

_Fuck, Jason!_ Eric bit back a laugh. _Jason fancies himself head of the household? Sookie and I are going to have our hands full with the lot of them—Jason as much as the kids._

Marveling at how ahead of reality his internal thoughts had gotten, Eric focused his attention back on the unfolding drama.

"Hey, Crissy," Jason threw his most charming smile at her. She seemed unmoved.

"Crystal, how are you?" Reaching the front door, Eric offered her his hand. "I'm Eric Northman, a friend of the Stackhouses—"

Crystal Norris's eyes widened as she shook Eric's hand. She stared at their hands as they touched and Amelia thought she detected some drool pooling at the side of the woman's mouth.

Just then another voice could be heard from within the house.

"Mama, who's at the door?" A girl appeared.

_Fuck_, Eric thought. _Pam really wasn't kidding. _

"Jason Stackhouse, you tomcat you. Long time, no see, Sugar. What're you doin' here? Couldn't stay away?" She batted her eyes at Jason, as she used her teeth to clean the dirt from underneath her fingernails.

Eric's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jason had been with the two of them? The actor drew upon his years of training to mask his shock and keep his face expressionless. All he could think was, _Jason flirted with the danger of going after a mother-daughter team, and THIS IS THE TEAM HE CHOOSE?_

"Ah, hey, Tanya. How're you all doing?" Jason greeted his former liaison with an impish grin. Crystal turned to stare at her daughter.

Tanya, in the meantime, forgot all about Jason upon realizing Eric Northman was standing on her doorstep. Wearing a black wife beater. She loved wife beaters. She had one that she'd throw a wide pirate belt around the waist and wear as a dress. It was her 'special occasion' dress.

Crystal, however, had some news she was still working on digesting. "Tanya, you dated Jase?" Crystal, possibly forgetting—or not?—that she held a shotgun, was gesticulating with her hands, waving the gun around.

"Mama, yeah! We screwed around some. While back." Tanya looked wide-eyed at her mother. Finally getting clued in to what was bothering her mother, she asked, "You, too?"

"Yeah," Crystal nodded. "Back before I married Big Cal. Cal must've been no more than 3 or 4."

"Oh," Tanya nodded. "Well, it happens." She shrugged.

"Yeah. At least I'm married now, so it don't happen as much." The two women nodded in agreement.

Jason looked sick to his stomach.

Eric kept his face impassive, trying to decide if he were more amused or horrified.

Hoyt, after a few waves of nausea, managed to calm both himself and Long Shadow.

Tanya, obviously the fashion diva of Bon Temps, was wearing a t-shirt that said "Crack Whore," and the same Podunk flip-flops from the other day.

Amelia, ever observant, was just taking it all in, and listening for more 'clicks.' She bemoaned her inability to snap photos for Pammy.

In the meantime, Hunter, Cal and Mel were back to focusing on one another, in some kind of détente.

"Well," Crystal was patting down her hair with the hand not holding the shotgun, "why don't you all come inside—except you Mel. I've got some sweet tea and I know for a fact we've got some Old Milwaukee in the fridge. I just came home with six cases from Wal-Mart."

Jason, a worried, frozen smile on his face, turned to look at Eric. Eric nodded, giving Jason a "let's-get-this-the-fuck-over-with" glance as they started to walk towards the house. He patted Jason's arm reassuringly and winked.

Click. Click.

With that, the motley crew—except for Mel—walked silently into Crystal Norris's house.

Click. Click.

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**AN: Thanks for reading and reviews are always appreciated! Don't forget to check out the casting links from my profile. Also, don't forget to vote for Funniest ROTSS character on my Fanfic profile.**

**If you've never seen Clint Eastwood's "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" - what's wrong with you? No seriously, the final scene in the cemetery is fuckawesome. The ROTSS page on my blog has a link for Chapter 54. Fastforward to minute 3 and watch for 2 minutes. If you dig the music, watch the whole thing. **

**If you hate Bill and have never read "Oh No! Vampire Bill!" what are you waiting for? **

**Next Up: Mr. Subtle**

**:D**


	55. Mr Subtle

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Five: Mr. Subtle**

One by one everyone left, until finally Sookie was alone with Bill. Sookie stared at her fiance as he sat on a foldout chair reading his journal. Strategically positioned in the shadow of the oak tree, Bill sat like a statue. As she watched him, Sookie couldn't help but think he looked like he was in a grudge match with his mortal enemy, the sun. It was like he was refusing to move a muscle beyond his lungs and his diaphragm, all to prevent even the smallest ray of sunlight from touching his delicate skin.

Pulling her attention from him, Sookie gave herself a mental shake. She had a lot to think about and with everyone out of the house—even with Bill still around—it was a good opportunity for her to take stock.

For one thing, things had gotten very strange very quickly. Suddenly, all the Stackhouses were home for the first time in four years. After not playing the role of guardian for a year, not only was Sookie back in that role, but the kids were older and had even more of a penchant for mischief.

Then, of course, there was that large fly in her personal ointment: Eric Northman. Recalling her encounter with Eric in the kitchen the night before, Sookie felt her face warm up. It had nothing to do with the sun.

Sookie was still having a hard time reconciling the fact that she'd fallen hook, line, and sinker for Eric Northman. The Eric Northman. The actor. She'd always been a sensible person —a stable, practical person. Falling for Eric was by far the craziest thing she'd ever done in her life. Not a part of her world, he'd randomly waltzed into her life and she _knew _he could just as easily waltz right back out again.

Which brought up the question that begged to be asked: How could she possibly trust Eric?

To be honest, she barely knew him. Aside, of course, from what he'd chosen to share with her. She couldn't help but recognize he seemed…_genuine_ with her. Then there was the fact that he'd been living in her home with her entire family and his—it was obvious Pam was his family—for the past three or four days. They'd been together—all of them—pretty much non-stop. Sookie couldn't help but see the humor of it and laughed quietly to herself. It was like 'Big Brother, Louisiana Style.'

Finally, regardless of her insane flirtation with Eric—and she was sure as sugar thankful it hadn't gone beyond kissing— she still had to figure out what she was going to do about Bill. Covertly, she looked over at him from behind her dark sunglasses.

Bill…

After everything, how did she feel about Bill?

Truthfully, she just didn't feel the same.

What had happened?

Well, first there was the obvious. Eric. Yes, Eric had "happened" all right. His being around definitely contributed to her waffling feelings about Bill.

But she couldn't lay the credit completely at Eric's door. There was more to it than that. Much more.

There was the fact that her entire family couldn't stand Bill.

In honestly appraising his behavior since he'd arrived in Bon Temps, she could hardly blame them.

He could have easily delayed his bedtime to meet his future in-laws, but chose not to.

For that matter, he could've just agreed to go to the Du Rones' for the barbecue instead of turning it into a game. But he hadn't.

At breakfast, he had made little to no effort to talk to anyone. Well, anyone, other than Eric in their ridiculous chest thumping competition, she corrected herself.

She knew now that the kids didn't like Bill. More importantly, Bill didn't seem to like the kids. Jason hadn't seemed very impressed with him and Jason was —if nothing else —a very straight up sort when it came to people. While Tara had made unenthusiastic yet still neutral comments over the past few days, now that she'd met Bill, it seemed she was tossing neutrality out the window. She had thrown Sookie a familiar look as she left with JB. Sookie knew what that look meant: it was the 'what-can-you-possibly be thinking-we-have-to-have-a-serious-talk' look.

Tara hadn't thrown Sookie that look since the Quinn era. She sighed.

Then, of course, there was the whole question of where to live.

Sookie had moved to Dallas because it was close the younger kids and she was able to get a job there. That being said, even with her in Dallas and the boys in San Antonio, it had still proven quite a challenge seeing them regularly. Her work deadlines made her busy more around the clock than she would have liked. Although she enjoyed her job, it was definitely not an easy 9-to-5-type gig. Researching, conducting interviews, factchecking, etc. Everything took time. It was hard to predict people's availability for interviews, so unless she had nothing due, it was hard committing to a long weekend. Plus, she didn't want to upset the boys' schedules too much as they had given the appearance that they'd been adjusting well to living with Aunt Linda.

Of course, now Sookie knew just how mistaken she had been in that assumption. Apparently, they hadn't been adjusting as much as they'd been biding their time, waiting for the moment when they could go home.

A rueful smile on her face, Sookie felt a tear run down her cheek. Sniffling, she swiped it away.

They wanted to be home. _Everyone_ wanted to be home. She could understand that. Home was home. Heck, she wanted to be home too.

An unpleasant thought occurred to her.

Their financial situation was not good. The money left in the estate would last a few more months. If she, Jason, and Tara all pooled their savings, they could maybe get a few more months. But really, if they were planning on staying on in Bon Temps, they'd each need a real job. Tara would need a car. Food, insurance, essentials for a family of six was not an inconsequential expense. While the house was paid for there were still taxes that needed to be paid. The price of gas kept going up and up. Groceries, electricity, other utilities.

Now if Maxine stayed on as she indicated she'd like to, they wouldn't ask her to pay anything for rent beyond a nominal amount just to cover groceries and a portion of the utilities. So that wouldn't have an impact—one-way or the other— on their finances.

If Eric made the renovations and invested in the house, essentially buying a portion of the property from them, they would be ahead, financially. If they had maybe $100,000 in the bank, it would make it easier not to worry so much. They could put half the money aside for the kids' education. The other half would go to bills, as needed, until they had regular incomes and they didn't need to rely on it as much.

But…okay, what's wrong with this picture?

How could she possibly get involved with Eric when they—the entire Stackhouse family— were going to be financially dependent on him?

Crinkling her nose, Sookie frowned. The agreement between Eric and Jase happened before her and Eric's 'whatever,' so she didn't think he'd done it to make her happy. No, she would not second-guess his motivations. It was obvious in every action, every look on his face—she smiled remembering—Eric totally adored the kids and genuinely enjoyed being at the farm.

She felt her eyes well up again and took a breath.

Okay, so Eric genuinely wants a place at the farm. He enjoys living with Stackhouses. Sookie smiled to herself. His motivation to do the renovations and buy a portion of the house has nothing to do with his interest in her. So it wasn't like she'd be a 'kept woman' or anything like that if they wound up seeing each other, but…

Something was still bothering her. She was just having a difficult time parsing out exactly what it was. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and looked up.

Agitated, Bill was flailing his arms. His sunblocker cap was flopping around.

"Bill? You okay?"

"Yes, darling. I seem to have very sweet blood. These gigantic Louisiana mosquitoes seem to not be able to get enough of me."

Sookie nearly burst out laughing at his overly dramatic antics.

The life that she was just imagining—her moving back to the farm and living with her family…she honestly couldn't envision Bill ever fitting into that life.

She just could not see Bill leaving Dallas to move to Bon Temps, Louisiana.

To live with her. And her brothers and sisters. And Long Shadow. And JB Du Rone. And Maxine Fortenberry. And Eric Northman. And probably Pam Ravenscroft, too.

Even if there was nothing going on between her and Eric —and really, there barely was — Bill would _never_ fit into her world.

If she'd only been honest with herself about what she wanted, she could've saved herself the embarrassment of a broken engagement.

_Okay, then_, she thought. _Well, it's not going to get any easier. So much for my day off_...

Sookie rose from her lounge chair and threw her white sundress on over her bikini. Taking off her sunglasses, she propped them on the top of her head. She walked over to Bill.

Bill, seeing Sookie coming towards him, laid down his journal to watch her. Sookie settled on the top rung of the porch steps, about a foot from Bill's chair. She stared ahead for a few moments, a solemn look on her face. It occurred to Bill how unlike Sookie it was to have such a serious look on her face. She usually was smiling or laughing, even if, as Bill often thought, it was about something he himself would not regard as a laughing matter.

Finally, Sookie took a breath and turned sideways, putting her feet up on the top run. Looking up to meet Bill's gaze, she started to speak.

"Bill, we need to talk…"

Bill frowned. He did not like Sookie's tone. He thought it sounded like she was going to break up with him. It reminded him of the tone he used when he had his "it's not you, it's me" conversation with his ex-girlfriend, Judith. Bill did a quick mental assessment of the situation. In recent weeks he and Sookie had had little quiet time together. Sookie's menstruation the weekend before her departure meant they had not had intercourse for several weeks.

Thinking quickly, Bill decided seducing Sookie would distract her enough so that whatever this serious train of thought she was interested in pursuing would fall by the wayside. He decided to come up with some 'sweet nothings' to recite to her. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any. His talents laid elsewhere. Ah! He knew what he would do! He would recite dialogue from a book he had just finished reading.

"Sookie," he leaned forward to look soulfully into her eyes. "I would give anything to lie with you again." Standing, he ran his hand lightly over Sookie's exposed arm.

At Bill's touch, Sookie felt a chill run down her back. Not in a good way. Her eyes wide with surprise, she could only stare at Bill as she was left momentarily speechless.

_What the heck?_ she thought. _Where in the hell is this coming from? Way to go with the inappropriate, Bill_. _Mr. Subtle, you are not._

After a few breaths, she found her voice. "Wow, Bill. Thanks for the…uh…emphatic words. Not sure where it's coming from—"

"Know this: I will die for you." He met her eyes and pumped his fist to emphasize his words.

Sookie felt her eyes go wide again as her found herself staring once more at Bill. _Um, okay. That's a little scary. 'Die for me'? What the fuck?_

Sookie turned her head away from Bill, glancing out towards the trees that separated the house and driveway from the road. The stray thought popped in her head to tell Jason and Eric to clear some of the tree branches so that the house would be more openly visible from the road.

Returning her attention to Bill, Sookie wondered whether or not she could outrun him with her bad ankle and make it out to the road. Even if she could make it to the road, what good would that do? Unless someone happened to drive past right at that instant, she'd be left there and he'd catch up to her in a minute. Sorry that she'd lent her car to Pam and in so doing left herself saddled with Meltdown Bill, she chastised herself when suddenly it hit her.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ _This is Bill Compton we're talking about. He's barely capable of killing flies with a fly zapper. Besides, I could lose him in a heartbeat if I ran into a clearing because he wouldn't follow me into the sun._

Sookie cleared her throat and spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Bill," she met his eyes. "I'm not sure why you feel like telling me that. I'm not asking you to die for me. No one is. No one should. I think at the point you're wondering if you'd be willing to die for someone, you maybe should be considering whether or not the relationship is worth it." She watched his face as she said this, waiting to see his reaction. He was making her more than a little nervous.

"I wish he would die some nights." Bill, thinking he ought to appear nonchalant as he delivered this line, deliberately set his gaze toward the woods.

Sookie, meanwhile, felt herself go slack jawed. Perplexed, she could only look at Bill. What the hell was going on with him? Although she felt like screaming, she forced herself to stay calm. While there was nothing more she'd rather do than shake Bill, she knew she shouldn't agitate him further while he was in this strange mood. Breathing deeply, she forced the next words out. Her voice low, it barely registered above a whisper. "Uh, who Bill?"

_Oh, she wants a name on that last line_ thought Bill._ I've got a name for her! I might as well tell her just who she has opened her home to, who she really has staying at 'Camp Stackhouse'!_

"That would be Eric, of course," he snarled. "Did you know we went to college together? Did he not tell you about that?"

"No." Sookie frowned. _So THAT's what all this fucked up talk is all about? He's looking to prove some point about Eric? _

"Yes, well, we did. I'm not surprised he didn't tell you. He's quite the arrogant ass. He thought nothing of toying with people's lives, destroying their dreams. He thrived in his position of power in the theater department, doling out parts to his friends, while those of us who were not part of his _clique_ were left with our dreams, unsatisfied and unfulfilled."

"Oh, Bill. I'm sorry to hear that." Sookie tried to sound sympathetic, but really her mind was in overdrive. "I had no idea you wanted to be an actor." _Although apparently I should've realized it much sooner _she thought bitterly_._ "Why don't you tell me about it?"

As Bill started to tell Sookie about his dreams of acting at UCLA, she forced herself to listen. She quickly came to the conclusion that she'd have to get them the hell out of the house for the day. Taking his strange mood into account, she no longer felt like breaking up with him when no one else was around. She wasn't afraid of him hurting her or anything like that, but she was afraid he'd be a big ole nuisance about it. She'd definitely feel more comfortable if Jason or Eric or, heck, even Pam were around to make sure he left.

_So much for my mental health da_y, Sookie told herself wryly as she continued to nod at Bill's comments. _It's a mental health day all right. Maybe just a mental day. Period._

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**AN: Hmm. This was originally posted in July 2010. I was amused to spot a little unintentional foreshadowing of a later fic. Anyway, ****I went back and forth on how much to change this chapter. In case you don't recognize them, those disturbing "sweet nothings" are canon SVM!Bill. I worried those direct quotes were a little gimmicky but then decided to leave them. The idiot really said them. Meh. **

**Next Up: Hotshot, enter left. **

**:D**


	56. The Chapter with No Name

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Six:**

All things considered, Eric felt they had been very lucky. Things could have gone worse—much worse. Despite the relief he felt that no one had been shot, beaten up, or forced to witness any of the Norris women naked—the trip to Hotshot was something he'd just assume forget.

With no other choice, the Stackhouse party had followed Crystal inside the Norris' home. Tanya grabbed Jason's hand and led him to a spot on the sofa beside her. After giving the three kids sweet tea, Crystal sat on a Lazy Boy recliner. The three Stackhouse kids, after close inspection of the cloth love seat, piled onto a leather Lazy Boy, Amelia and Hunter sitting together on the seat while Hoyt sat on an arm, Long Shadow's leash tightly wound around his wrist. Cal plopped down on the floor of the living room.

Hesitant to sit on the moth-eaten, beer-and-tobacco-stained sofa and love seat, Eric prolonged standing as long as he could. He finally conceded defeat and pulled a hardwood stool from the kitchen area into the living room. He immediately found himself under the watchful gaze of Crystal and Tanya. Eric silently cursed Jason when he saw the younger man's visible sigh of relief that Eric appeared to be the primary target of the Norris women's attention.

"So, Eric—may I call you Eric?" asked Crystal.

"Yes, of course. That's fine." _Polite, Northman, be polite._

"We're big fans of your vampire show. I loved 'I Love Lucy' growing up. I think you're terrific on the show. But I always wonder why they didn't make your character one of them Mexicans? Like on the original show? I always hate it when they change things around too much from the original, you know?"

Eric, confounded by Crystal on multiple levels, just stared at her.

"Well, Crystal, the character in the original show was Cuban, not Mexican. I believe if they had chosen to make him Cuban, I wouldn't have been cast since I'm Scandinavian and look it."

"Ooh," Tanya interjected, "Scandinavian. Is that a disease? Like is that what makes you so tall?"

Amelia, having taken a sip of sweet tea, struggled to prevent a replay of breakfast. Her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's as she attempted to swallow the tea.

Eric proceeded to explain that Scandinavia was a place in Europe to which Crystal replied she'd never been to Europe and she didn't plan on going either because she didn't think it was right to support terrorists. Eric had just stared at her blankly.

Time went by with a slow, death knell precision. After about an hour and a half, the Stackhouse crew was still very much ensnared by the Norris women. Amelia removed her spell from Cal and apologized to both Cal and Crystal for the 'scare'. Jason did a little catching up, filling in his two former lovers— Eric shivered at the thought—on what he'd been up to since he'd seen them last.

Crystal and Tanya both hinted —none too subtly—that they'd each be receptive to a little reunion with Jason for 'old times' sake'. They even said it could be like a 'double-date,' or, perhaps more appropriately, a 'twoffer,' to which Amelia mumbled "qui est dégoûtant." [that is disgusting]. Eric, looking over at Amelia, nodded in agreement, and subtly grinned at the girl. She smiled back at him appreciatively.

Eric himself wasn't in the clear, either as both 'women'—and Eric was using the term loosely— offered to help him pass the time while he was staying in Louisiana.

Eric rewarded them with his signature smile, but demurred on their offer with an Academy Award caliber performance.

"I appreciate your offer—_really_—but I'm actually involved with someone."

Eric smiled and Jason, thinking of his sister, cast a speculative glance at Eric. Crystal caught the look Jason threw Eric and mistook its meaning.

"Oh! I get it! You know, I never took that song to mean that the Navy turned you gay, but I'm not a dirty-minded person." Crystal laughed. "For all my 37 years, I'm an innocent. I guess if they wrote a song about it, it must be true. Like the 'Star-Spangled Banner.' And Hollywood! I'd heard that everyone in Hollywood was gay. You don't want to believe it, but I guess that's me being naive again."

Eric smiled while Jason struggled to comprehend what was happening. Crystal continued.

"Oh, my goodness. So you two...are together. That's interesting. Not that there's anything wrong with it, of course. I love gays and homos and Lesbians— although I wish they'd dress better. The Lesbians, that is. You can't touch the gays for good grooming and style. Why just look at the two of you!"

As Crystal finished up her speech, demonstrating her belief perhaps in every gay stereotype that ever existed, the Stackhouse party sat stunned. Catching flies. Not stupid, the kids knew exactly what Crystal's words implied.

Jason was the first one to recover. As much as he didn't give a damn what these two nasty skanks thought of him, he knew they'd waste no time in shooting their mouths off to anyone who'd listen and he had a reputation to uphold. He'd always been renowned for his 'sex abilities.' He figured, if he were gay, he'd probably still be talented with at least above-average sex abilities. He just wasn't sure what those abilities would be.

Eric, meanwhile, had already zeroed in on the fact that having these two disgusting creatures believe him and Jason to be a gay couple was likely the quickest, most sure-fire way to get them the hell out of there. He looked over at Jason and winked.

"Oh, well, you know..." Eric started off ambiguously, "how it is. You can't always direct your heart along the easy path." To emphasize his point, he cast a soulful gaze at Jason.

"Aw," Crystal looked at Eric, her eyes becoming shiny. "That's beautiful, Eric. And so, so true. You can't control your heart and if your heart wants you and Jase to be gay, I guess that's all there is to it."

"Damn awful shame, if you ask me." Tanya looked like someone had stolen her favorite wife beater dress and used it to clean up a keg spill.

Amelia finally lost her battle and sputtered up some sweet tea. Unfortunately it landed on Hunter.

"Geez Louise, Ame! Again? Heck, if we'd known about your problem, Hoyt and I coulda brought you one of Hadley's bibs."

Amelia just continued coughing. She knew Eric was an actor but she was thinking he was doing a suspiciously good job acting gay.

As for the boys, their thoughts had already moved on.

Hoyt was worrying that Long Shadow might need to poop again soon. While Hoyt personally would approve Shad 'pulling a Bill' on Crystal Norris's rug, he didn't want her to pull out her shotgun again. They were so close to getting away- er- being able to go home.

Hunter was wondering how much longer they'd be stuck there. He felt itchy. Dirty. It was more than Ame's spit, too. He figured Pam would insist they be de-loused before she'd let them back into the house. He wondered if you could pick up bedbugs if you weren't in a bed.

In the midst of this, Jason shot a confused look at Eric. Debating the wisdom of Eric's ruse, he finally resigned himself to playing along. They'd already been trapped in the Norris' house for nearly two hours and the last thing he wanted after just getting home was to find himself the beef filling in a Crystal/Tanya manwich.

Fully recognizing the benefits of Eric and Jason being 'queers', Crystal offered to give them a tour of the house as she had some "home decor" questions she wanted to pose to them. Embracing their roles with an unexpected fervor—realizing that it seemed like escape was near—Eric and Jase offered up answers to all her questions.

"Yes, gingham curtains never go out of style."

"Pink is a good alternative for the ceiling."

"Tacky is in the eye of the beholder."

By the end of the house tour, Eric and Jason had fallen completely and flamboyantly into character. Eric channeled Lafayette, while Jason mirrored Eric. They held hands, slapped each others' butts, and took turns calling each other 'baby' and 'hon.' The kids, besides themselves, struggled to contain their laughter.

But it worked. Suffering the indignities of this ridiculous ordeal, the group was finally able to take their leave of Hotshot. They thanked Crystal and Tanya profusely for their warm hospitality, although they kept their real thoughts under wraps—_Thank you for not shooting us! Thanks for not giving us rabies! Thank you for letting us leave and not chaining us up in your cellar!_—and left.

Their _Escape from Hag Mountain _adventure finally behind them, the crew jumped back into the Passat and made a beeline for civilization. Weirded out by their morning, after some discussion the group consensus was to 'do something normal.' So, with that, they decided to stop at a fast food restaurant for lunch. They agreed that the grease drenched burgers and fries was the best meal they had ever had.

By two-thirty, the crew found themselves finally at a specialty electronics retailer ready to make their desired purchases. Definitely not the typical electronics store, this store sold all kinds of spy gadgets. They had had to drive a little distance, but camouflage style surveillance cameras, nanny-cams, and voice-activated mini-recorders are not exactly items sold in the average 'Best Buy.'

Eric, by default, was the group babysitter as it hadn't taken Jason long to find the light tasers, the night vision goggles and a couple of friends to play with. Hooting and hollering, Jason soon was improvising a game of 'Spy Vs. Spy' with a couple of the store clerks.

Hoyt, in the meantime, was all over the cameras and surveillance equipment, trying to find the one that Uncle Felipe had apparently hidden in Aunt Linda's bathroom. That was an interesting revelation. This Uncle Felipe sounds like one sick fuck, Eric thought. If he hadn't already believed the boys completely in the right for running home, this little piece of knowledge would have settled it.

Hunter zeroed in on the handheld metal detectors. Making the most of his angelic face, the boy was practicing using metal detectors on other customers as they walked into the store. At first the customers would angrily look around for Hunter's parents. Once they met Eric's eyes, Eric would shake his head, smiling, and then shrug. Realizing Hunter was with Eric Northman—the Eric Northman!- the other patrons would immediately forgive the boy's behavior, decide it was 'cute,' and attempt to strike up a conversation with Eric.

Eric, leaning against a counter, was probably doing the most appropriate thing he could be doing in a store that specialized in surveillance equipment: He was observing everyone. Periodically someone would approach him and ask for an autograph or for a photo. He was in a pretty mellow mood—still feeling a warm glow of relief to no longer be trapped with the vermin of Hotshot — and happily complied with all reasonable requests.

In the meantime, Amelia, although she appeared to be comparing the cell phones, was really daydreaming. Before they'd left the house that morning, Amelia had managed to grab Sook's phone for a few seconds. Finding a cell number for Sam on her sister's contacts list, Amelia was able to send her sister's former boss a text message.

_Hey Sam - Really good to c u Du Rones. Luv 2 catch up more. Stop by this PM if u can. No need to call. ;)_

That seemed pretty Sookie. Amelia was just afraid Sam would call and alert Sookie in advance.

For the plan to work, here's what Amelia needed to have happen:

Sam needed to get 'Sookie's' text message and, rather than being all emo and girly, he needed to just man-up and go to the farm to see Sookie.

Sookie and Douche Bag needed to stay at the farm this way they'd be there when Sam arrived. Amelia figured that since Pam and Maxine had taken Sook's car, and since Sookie wouldn't drive the Douche Mobile, and since the Douche Bag wouldn't want to drive around Bon Temps, they'd spend the day at the farm.

So Sam would see Sookie and be all happy.

Sookie would see Sam and remember that there were other, non Douche Bag men she could date.

Honestly, Ame and the boys preferred Eric over Sam, but given Sookie's awful taste in men, they couldn't count on her making that decision. Amelia figured Sam was the least of all evils.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall, Amelia couldn't help but wonder what everyone else was up to...

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**AN: You may not see it yet but I changed my avatar the day I posted this to reflect the look on my face when I saw two readers dropped ROTSS ****as a fave after I posted Ch 55. (Huh? The chapter was _that_ bad?) Tough crowd as Colin Quinn would say. Don't pick faves if you know you're fickle. This is why I don't pick faves.**

**Does anyone have any suggestions for a title for this chapter? I never liked the one I used to have but nothing jumps out at me.**

**Next Up: What the hell are the rest of them up to?**

**:D**


	57. Nobody Wins In a Dairy Challenge

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Seven: Nobody Wins in a Dairy Challenge**

Sookie, following the morning's revelations from Bill, decided to just get in the car and bring him to the mall. She hated — despised, really — driving Bill's car as the handling in the Buick was horrible but she knew they wouldn't leave the house if she depended on him to drive. So, with some cajoling and the promise that she would do the driving, she was able to convince him to go out.

Once at the mall, Sookie was able to let down her guard. After their oddly intense morning, the mindless walking of the mall felt very relaxing.

Unsure how to broach the conversation with Bill, Sookie was all in favor of procrastinating the 'talk' until later, at home, with a full house in attendance. With that decision made, she suggested to Bill that they go see a movie. Unfortunately, once they walked over to the cinema, they realized Eric's last film was still playing. Bill frowned and became agitated just looking at the poster. Sookie sighed in exasperation. She then offered the suggestion that they just get something to eat instead. Bill seconded that idea and fifteen minutes later, the two sat in Appleby's, Sookie drinking a Sam Adams while Bill sipped an Appletini.

Staring at Bill, she realized that she had to just tell him. There was no reason for her to put it off any longer.

_Okay, Sook, showtime_, she told herself.

"Bill, we need to talk." Meeting his eyes as she spoke, she glanced down at her engagement ring, twisting it around her finger.

Bill grimaced at her words. He was hoping to forestall this and perhaps avoid it altogether. He didn't want to break up. He had a plan. He had his career on track. They were to get married and move up to Massachusetts. They were to have three children, possibly four if Sookie did not gain an excessive amount of weight with the third one. If Sookie broke up with him, he'd be back at square one.

"Yes, darling?"

"Well, obviously a lot has," she met his eyes, " changed over the past few days. I —" she paused.

Bill decided to interrupt at that point.

"Sookie, I know things are different. I understand your family home is not being sold. I am fine with that, darling. Don't worry yourself about it. If you need to stay on in Louisiana a while longer to get things settled, well, that's fine. You know I'm a patient man. It's okay with me if you need to stay here. But, while I have been lenient with you, I fear that one thing must change. I will allow you to stay on in Bon Temps with your family. But Eric must leave the house. I won't allow my fiancé to stay under the same roof as a sexual predator that bears me ill will."

Sookie stared at Bill, silently seething. _This fucking bullshit again? Jesus H. , Bill, you are making this real effing easy._

"Bill, no. Eric's not going anywhere."

"What? Sookie, I told you: I will not allow my wife-to-be to live with Eric Northman, even if it is for a short period of time."

Bill took a breath and Sookie could tell he was ramping up for a lecture. Rather than wait it out, however, she decided to just nip it in the bud.

"BILL, SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! NOT ANOTHER WORD. SHUT IT!"

Bill looked at Sookie. His eyes wide, he was shocked by her tone. Startled into silence, he glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone had heard Sookie's outburst.

Sookie, in the meantime, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All she wanted to do in that moment was go home and spend time with her family. She wanted to take the kids shopping to get new phones. Bring Ame to the hair salon. Talk to Tara about her wedding planning. Kick Pam out of the goddamn kitchen and make a traditional Stackhouse dinner. Maybe even spend some time with Eric and figure out what the heck their 'whatever' was all about. But first she had to deal with Bill. Right now.

"Bill, I have been giving this some serious thought and I've come to the conclusion that I don't believe we're right for each other." Sookie had been twisting her engagement ring as she spoke. Now she held it in her right hand as she met Bill's gaze. She waited for him to speak.

Bill leveled his penetrating stare on Sookie. This was even worse than he had predicted. "Sookie, darling, what are you saying?"

Sookie, incredulous, just kept staring at him. _Seriously, Bill? Which part of that didn't you get? _"Bill, you heard me. I don't want to get married—"

"Is it on account of Eric?"

_Ah, the million dollar question. Be honest? Yes? No?_ "Honestly, Bill, it's a few things. For one, I decided I really _really_ want to move back to Bon Temps and take care of my family." She fixed an inquisitive glance at Bill. His face remained impassive. His features were not revealing a thing. "What do you think of that, Bill?"

Bill didn't like it. He made a face as he measured his response. "Sookie, I had planned for us to relocate to Massachusetts after we married."

_Did I just hear that right?_ Sookie thought. _I must be hallucinating_. "What did you just say?"

"Well, I didn't want our children to grow up in the Deep South and be educated in the local schools, Sookie. I decided it would be best for us to move to Massachusetts and raise our children there. My mother is there. It is a different climate you'd have to get used to but I am certain you would eventually come to love the seasons of New England."

Sookie, overwhelmed, remained silent as Bill finally revealed his plan for the future. His plan for _her_ future. She felt like she was in some kind of horror movie and the creepy music had just started playing. She had had _no fucking idea_ that Bill was busily mapping out her entire life behind her back. She didn't like it. Not one fucking bit. She could not believe the gall he had to be so callously presumptuous to make those decisions and just assume she would go along with them.

Sookie smiled unpleasantly. Maybe she ought to thank him. He just made this a helluva lot easier.

"No. Never. Not a chance. Not in a million years."

"What?"

"You heard me. I am staying in Bon Temps. It's settled. I am not going anywhere. Here," she held out the engagement ring, "is your ring. I... I don't believe we have anything further to say, Bill. "

Bill looked at her hand holding the engagement ring. He wouldn't accept it. "No."

Sookie's eyes shot open. _What? _"What did you say?"

"I said no, Sookie. I refuse to accept this."

"Bill Compton, you are taking this ring back." Sookie attempted to pry open Bill's hand to drop the engagement ring in it, but both his hands were curled into fists. Sookie didn't give up as she used all her strength to force his hand open so she could pop the ring into his palm.

To everyone else in Appleby's, it looked like the blonde-haired lady and the dark-haired man were arm-wrestling.

"Argh! Open your hand, Bill!"

"No. I will not."

"Yes! Take it! Take this ring!"

"No, Sookie. You can't make me accept this," he said.

After struggling with him for a few moments more and making an ongoing stream of Steffi Graf-like grunts, Sookie ceased, realizing they were garnering 'What the fuck?' looks from nearly every other table in the restaurant. She decided to try reasoning with him.

"Bill, it's not a consensus type thing. I don't need your permission or your agreement to break up with you. Of course, it's better if it's mutual but it's hardly required. Do you get me?"

"Sookie, you're very emotional right now. I don't think it's entirely within your right to alter the course of my life," Bill offered plainly.

Sookie rolled her eyes, reminding herself to breathe. "Just how am I altering your life?"

"By breaking up with me."

"But it's entirely within my right to break up with you."

"I don't think so. By accepting my proposal and my engagement ring, you committed yourself to a contractual agreement to marry me," Bill smiled in an indulgent manner. "I'm not letting you off the hook just because you're experiencing jitters."

"EXPERIENCING JITTERS? ARE YOU INSANE?"

Cognizant that her raised voice had once again attracted the attention of nearly all the other patrons in Appleby's, Sookie took a moment to close her eyes and take several deep breaths.

Inhale – exhale

Inhale – exhale

Inhale – exhale

Eyes closed. Bill out of sight, she told herself to remain calm. _Nobody wins in a dairy challenge,_ she reminded herself. She smiled, remembering. That was an old TV skit that she, Jason, Tara and JB had recreated as kids. It was fucktarded, but funny as hell and somehow, she had transitioned into adulthood with that as a mantra to remain calm. A reminder that not everything is within one's control.

_Okay, back to reasoning with the lunatic._

"Bill, I am not leaving Bon Temps. Not now, maybe not ever. I'm giving up my apartment in Dallas and bringing all my stuff back here. What do you say to that?"

"Sookie, we can work out minor logistical details. I will continue to live there for the time being, and we can meet in the middle for conjugal visits," Bill smiled, trying to look seductive. It just came off as sleazy. Sookie wanted to punch him in the face. Hard.

"No, I'm not meeting you in border towns for conjugal visits," she rolled her eyes. "That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard."

Bill wasted no time in replying. "Well, darling, you'll have to compromise at some point if we're to make it work."

Sookie frowned, a disbelieving look on her face. "Bill, I don't want to make anything work." She spit out her words through clenched teeth.

"Yes, darling. Your poor attitude is more than apparent by your unwillingness to compromise."

Sookie was so frustrated, she felt like just throwing her head back and howling. Had Bill always been this crazy? This irrational? How had she missed it?

Nobody wins in a dairy challenge...

Nobody wins in a dairy challenge...

Nobody wins in a dairy challenge...

Suddenly it occurred to Sookie that Eric may very well be _her_ 'Get Out of Jail Free' card for a change.

"Eric's not leaving, you know. As a matter of fact, he's buying a piece of the property and it's going to be his home when he's filming in Louisiana."

Bill made a sour face. "Well, I'm not pleased with that but I can't control what other people do," Bill replied, not unreasonably.

Sookie rolled her eyes. Again. _In-fucking-credible,_ she thought. "That doesn't bother you, Bill? He's going to live in the house. While you're not there. That doesn't bother you? He ruined your acting career at UCLA. Won't it bother you that I'm living with him?"

"Well, I'm not happy about it, obviously, Sookie. But I can't tell the man where to live. Besides I assume this helps out your family financially?"

Sookie nodded.

"Well, I don't want to be responsible for supporting your family. So if he can do that, good. His god-awful movies are a blight on society, but somehow he's managed to con millions to paying good money to see his overacting hack performances. Using some of that undeserved windfall to support your family —well, it's like donating to charity, darling, only he won't get a tax write-off." At Sookie's glare, Bill felt he needed to placate her. "Of course, it's a very worthy charity, darling."

Sookie found herself battling the urge to push Bill's head down —violently— into the table. Repeatedly. As she glanced at her would-be-ex-fiance, the hatred was clearly visible in her face. The interplay between Good Sookie and Bad Sookie would've been evident to anyone. Except Bill, who remained totally and completely oblivious.

Sookie, given Bill's odd behavior earlier that day, had not intended to mention the 'whatever' with Eric. It hadn't seemed necessary and she hadn't wanted to upset him any more than was necessary.

Now, however, she didn't care. Bill, sly as a fox, was playing her. He was up to something. He wanted something. He was going to play this ridiculous game until he got whatever it was he wanted. Or...maybe…until something infuriated him enough to prompt him to bail on his game.

"There's more, Bill." Sookie finally got out. Bill looked at her blandly. "Bill, Eric Northman and I are attracted to each other and we want to date." Watching Bill like a hawk, Sookie detected a twitch in the corner of his eye. _Yes, he's definitely more affected by this than he's letting on...damn pain-in-the-ass..._ "What do you have to say to that, Bill?" Waiting for him to blow his 'I'm-cool-with-everything act', Sookie was shocked that Bill managed to retain his calm composure.

"Well, I'm not pleased, of course. But then, you knew I wouldn't be—"

Sookie kept her gaze fixed upon him. Expectantly. Waiting for him to finally flip his shit and show his true colors. She quirked an eyebrow at him. _Yes? _Bill averted his gaze from her, drawing his lips thinly across his mouth. To Sookie, it looked like he was painfully trying to keep himself from saying what was truly on his mind. "Bill," she prodded, "don't you have anything to say?"

"Sookie, I—"

"Yes?"

"I believe you and I are meant to be. We are soul-mates, darling. No way to get away from it." Sookie's eyes widened as she glared at Bill. "I can be patient as you need me to be as you work through your... infatuation... with Northman. When he breaks your heart—and he will—I will be there for you. Loving you as before, ready to pick up the pieces of your devastated heart."

Ouch. Frowning, she looked at Bill. _Way to go for the jugular, Bill. _Mentally exhausted, Sookie decided to drop it for the time being. When they got back to the house, maybe Eric would have a suggestion. Maybe he'd offer to kick Bill's ass. Maybe she could just tell Jason to kick Bill out. Or kick Bill's ass. Rubbing her now throbbing temple, she cut her eyes to look at Bill.

_Maybe I'll just kick his ass,_ she thought.

They settled into an uneasy afternoon at the mall. Sookie felt like she was babysitting a parolee from a mental ward. Every store they passed, Bill would make an observation about their hypothetical life together. They would pass a furniture store and Bill would comment on how nice the sofa was for their future home. They would walk by a crystal shop and Bill would point out a photo frame, and say how they should include it on their theoretical bridal gift registry.

Frustrated beyond belief, Sookie felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. Jason was supposed to meet with Catfish Hennessey in the late afternoon, so she figured it would be safe to go home by then. Glancing at her watch, she realized she had at least two more hours to kill with Bill. Killing time with Bill. What she really wanted to do was to just kill Bill.

_Fuck it_, she thought, resolving to remain calm. Soon. Soon. For now, she needed to be patient. After all, nobody wins in a dairy challenge...

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AN: Google "Nobody wins in a dairy challenge" if you don't know what it is. Inspired by an episode of "Seinfeld."**

**Thanks to supernaturallygifted, ****Hidden, ****birdy81, ****Lene, ****TMart37, ****azucar69, and ****MerryCain. Titles for previous chapter: supernaturallygifted suggested "Escape from Hag Mountain" which is good. Hidden suggested "just go with it lover" which actually made me think about adding that line to the chapter (there's not enough dialogue). I'm sure birdy81 didn't mean this for a suggested title but "I love gays and homos AND lesbians" has a definite ring to it, altho it won't win me any PC awards, but then again my avatar starting tomorrow is pretty questionable as well. *eyes wide***

**This chapter was originally called "The One with Appleby's" but now I'm toying with changing it to "Nobody Wins in a Dairy Challenge". Opinions on this one welcomed too. THANK YOU!**

**:D**


	58. Flushing Out the Poo

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Fifty-Eight: Flushing Out the Poo**

Maxine Fortenberry was very happy she had decided to take Pam Ravenscroft up on her invitation. Maxine was having a very interesting day. Over the course of the past 24 hours, Maxine had gotten over her initial wariness of Pam and had begun to regard the woman as a friend. A sardonic, maladjusted friend. Possibly one with an antisocial personality disorder, but a friend nonetheless. So, when Pam invited Maxine to go out for the day — just "the girls"— Maxine had been delighted. Since one errand on the "to do" list was to pick up Pam's car at the dealer — and since Maxine needed to start thinking about buying a car — it all seemed quite fortuitous. Maxine was big in the belief that things happen for a reason. So, off she was spending the day with Pam.

Pam, for her part, was developing a soft spot for "Red." The older woman wasn't one of hers yet, but Pam could see the writing on the wall. At this point, she had way too many people in her life. There was no way she could maintain a constant level of what passed for affection in her mind for so many people. She was still annoyed at Laffy for finding Jason before she did. And he didn't even come to the house!_Unbelievably self-absorbed queen_...maybe she should delete him and replace him with Maxine.

In any event, the two 'almost-friends' set out from Bon Temps that morning in Sookie's Cabrio. Feeling less hung-over but still slightly concerned about being jostled given Pam's lead foot — Amelia had relayed to Maxine the story of her and Pam's ride from Natchitoches — Maxine offered to drive, saying she could use the practice. Pam was only too thrilled to give over driving-in-Podunk duties to Maxine.

They sat in the car, in a companionable-though-slightly awkward silence, until Maxine settled on a conversation topic. "So, do you think Eric and Sookie will get together?"

Pam cast a speculative glance in Maxine's direction. "I would almost guarantee it. There are many people...looking out for their interests."

"Well, that sounds very mysterious. Very 'Big Brother.' Who's looking out for their interests, if you don't mind me asking?" Maxine, eyes mostly on the road, gave Pam a sideways glance.

Pam's lips tightened. She wasn't good with 'sharing.' She did not like the fact that people often reciprocated. She'd say she had to get someone fired. They'd say their spouse was dumping them. She'd complain about Sarah Jessica snapping up the last size 7 Manola Blahniks on Rodeo Drive. They'd tell her about their sister's husband's brother's father-in-law getting attacked by an orangutan while on safari. It was always blah-blah-blah-blah-blah. _Share_. Pam frowned. It was annoying. Although, to be fair, she had no cause, as of yet, to regard Maxine as annoying. Frankly the woman had proven herself to be damn entertaining. It still amused her to recall how shocked Maxine had been at the DuRones' party when they were discussing taking bets on whether or not Eric would 'pillage' Sookie before he delivered her to the party.

"Well, you know the kids want Sookie and Bill to break up." Pam started.

"Yeah, I caught on to that."

"There are, as a matter of fact, several activities underway to ensure that that happens."

"Oh? You mean aside from the best thing to come out of Sweden since the Tempur Pedic mattress?"

"Well, yes, of course, there's Eric," Pam nodded. "One can't rest on one's laurels when it comes to Sookie, no matter how well-hung the Viking is." Maxine's eyes sprang open, an 'o" formed at her lips. "Based on the fact that she accepted a marriage proposal from Bill, clearly one must consider that she may be mentally damaged."

_Well, goodness_, Maxine thought. Very harsh words but, having met Bill, she couldn't exactly fault Pam's theory. Clearly something wasn't right. She nodded. "Clearly."

Pam was momentarily silent. Maxine pursued the conversation.

"Well, what else is going on?"

"I am to do something," Pam paused, a sullen frown on her lips. "Amelia wanted me to seduce Bill and show proof of the indiscretion to Sookie. "

"Ew — I'm _so_ sorry," said Maxine. "For what it's worth, I think it's a wonderful, charitable thing if you do that."

Pam looked at Maxine appreciatively. _Yes, it is_, she agreed. "Thank you for recognizing that. I am a very giving person. Very few realize this." Maxine smiled. "Of course, often I would prefer to not always be so generous as it is tiring. I read 'Dear Abby' regularly and I wear pink quite often. I believe this may give many the impression that I want to hear about their problems. Rather than always glare at them in fury until they run away, I sometimes let them speak while I pretend to listen, nod, and respond appropriately with 'yes' or 'that's terrible' or 'I know.'"

Maxine nodded. "Yes, that's very nice of you."

Pam, nodding, uttered a self-satisfied "Thank you," as she turned to look out the side window.

Pam and Maxine's first stop was the mall in Monroe. Pecanland Mall. Half-heartedly window-shopping, Pam's inner voice told her she would not wear any purchases from a store called Burlington Coat Factory. But then she found a skirt she liked. It was unlikely to cover her ass and had ruffles. Then she found a t-shirt that said "Daddy's Girl". Maxine told her she thought both articles were intended for a child, to which Pam nodded, saying, "yes, that's terrible." The dressing room clerk frowned at Pam's selections for try-on, saying "those are from the kids department." Pam looked at the woman blankly and said, "I know."

After perusing all the department stores, the two women decided it was time for lunch. Debating whether or not to go to Appleby's — it looked like there was a couple having a fistfight at one of the tables — Pam and Maxine settled on Cajun Bistro.

A short while later, the two women were sitting, margaritas in hand, happily content.

Maxine, curious about Pam's game plan regarding Bill, decided to just ask. Worst-case scenario, Pam responds with "Yes, that's terrible."

"So Pam, have you thought about how you're going to - uh- seduce Bill? Man seems a little on the asexual side."

Pam looked at Maxine thoughtfully. Perhaps having a confidant in this would be helpful? She wanted — for her own reasons, which mainly had to do with Eric not driving her insane with his pussyness — to keep Eric out of the loop on her activities. And, damn if this awful desire to protect what's left of Amelia's innocence seemed to be keeping her from revealing too much to the girl. If Laffy were there, he'd definitely be good to bounce ideas off of. But, the little bitch was too lazy to deliver Jason home in person so he wasn't staying at the house, nor was he involved in Operation Douche Bag Removal.

In response to Maxine's question, Pam scowled. "Yes, the man's attire does seem to scream out "eunuch" more than anything else, doesn't it?"

Maxine gulped the remainder of her drink and sought to make eye contact with the waitress. Pam continued.

"I actually have no intention of seducing him. I've been weighing a couple of options," Pam paused and looked at Maxine. "Perhaps you can help me. It occurred to me I might need an accomplice -eh- assistant. Eric, due to his unfulfilled lust for Sookie, has been acting like a pussy. I think it best to shield Amelia from things of a sordid nature."

Assistant? Accomplice? Maxine had no idea where this was going, but after two margaritas, it sounded like it could be fun. Besides that Bill was single-handedly laying a whopping bran-infused poo-cake on what would otherwise be a lovely time at a beautiful farm with delightful new friends.

"Pam, say no more. I'd love to help you flush out the poo."

Pam, amused, quirked a half-smile.

"Well, then, my inebriated friend, let me tell you my idea and see what suggestions you may have."

"Sounds good..."

* * *

Hours later, Maxine pulled the Cabrio into the Mercedes dealership. She and Pam were laughing as they got out of the car. "Oh, Pam! It's so funny how you tease Eric!"

"Well, if I didn't inform him about arm porn, he'd probably think it had to do with puppet molestation."

Just then a car salesman approached the two women. Christian Baruch usually wore his 'good ole boy' persona at the Mercedes lot, but he could tell that was unlikely to go over with the young blonde and the older redhead. He decided to be 'affable-with-a-trace-of-smarmy'.

"Good afternoon. How wonderful for me to spend my remaining moments at work today with two such beautiful women."

Maxine looked taken aback while Pam merely snarled. Knowing the man for the supercilious sycophant he was, Pam decided to nip his ass kissing in the 'butt.'

"Save it, Romeo. We're not interested in your kind. My..." Pam paused. _Was Maxine a friend? Yes, friend_. "My friend is interested in looking at the C300. I know the sticker price. I know the dealer invoice. And I know how to use a knife. Are you picking up what I'm putting down?"

Maxine looked over at Pam, slightly frightened. All of a sudden Pam smiled. "Just kidding. I find car-shopping can often be quite stressful. I like to use humor to add a little levity."

The salesman nodded, a nervous laugh emanating from his throat. "Yes, very funny." Christian Baruch backed away from them.

"Yes, thank you. I know." Pam grabbed Maxine, linking her arm under the older woman's and led her to the lined up C300s on the lot.

Maxine laughed. "You scared him shitless."

"Yes, I know."

Maxine got a slightly wounded look on her face, afraid she was getting Pam's pat response until she heard Pam's next words.

"It was fun. I wanted," Pam turned her head slightly to meet Maxine 's eyes, "to amuse you." Pam smiled again, a genuine one this time. Maxine smiled back.

That Pam.

**

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AN: Thanks everyone for the reviews and inspiration! Woohoo! This chappie was never part of the original (I mean _my_ original draft; we left the Cadell book behind ages ago!). A few of the 2010 readers expressed interest in taking a peek at Pam and Maxine's day together. At first I was like "huh? what the fuck? how do I know what they're doing?" but it actually turned out okay. Over time I realized that if I focus on writing a story, fixate on words on the page, I draw a blank. Much better to concentrate on the characters and just let them be themselves.**


	59. Self Motivated Go To Needed

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

******

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**

**Chapter 59: Self Motivated Go To Needed**

Tara, settled in at JB's 'bachelor pad,' found herself having difficulty concentrating. JB, after setting her up on his laptop, left to go look at several properties and meet with a couple of clients. As Tara stared unseeing at the computer screen, she remembered the conversation they had had before he left.

Half out the door, he told her to expect him back around one o'clock. At which time, if Tara hadn't made her 'man of the house' a proper meal, he was going to school her in what happens to lazy little girls.

When JB had told her that, Tara had just burst out laughing. "What happens to lazy little girls?"

"Well, if they're good at being lazy, their men let them stay in bed a little longer."

Tara laughed some more. "Really?"

JB nodded.

"JB, darlin', far be it for me to tell you what to do, but that hardly seems practical, does it? You're rewarding a lazy woman for her laziness. Besides," Tara's voice dropped a few octaves as she finished her thought, "I don't think you _really _want me, all slothful, lying in your bed like a log. Do you?"

JB growled and dived for Tara where she stood, hooking his arms locked behind her and lifting her up. Capturing her lips with his own, he laid a soul-scorching kiss on her. She responded in kind, twining her fingers through his hair.

Finally they drew apart for air, each leaning their heads forward, coming together in a nuzzle.

A beautiful, tranquil moment, JB couldn't help but notice something was off when Tara sighed.

"Something wrong, Tar?"

"With you and me? Not a chance. Even if I didn't think you were hotter than hell, you're still the sweetest guy I've ever known. You're totally down to earth, fun, and your lips taste better than chocolate."

JB laughed. "That's a big compliment. Better than chocolate? Don't say things you don't mean."

JB moved his 'chocolate lips' down the side of her face, settling in at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Tara heard JB start to hum, inserting a random word in here and there. Concentrating hard, she struggled to identify the song and began to crack up when she realized he was humming ABBA's "Angeleyes" but singing "Chocolatelips."

"How do you even know that song, anyway?" Tara asked, still laughing.

JB could tell something was still bothering Tara. "What's going on," pause, kiss, "in that gorgeous blond head of yours, my wife-to-be"?

"Hmm, JB," she twisted her head slightly to give better access to the other side of her neck, "nothing..."

JB pulled away and met her eyes. "Tara, c'mon. I know you. I can tell there's something wrong. Tell me." _Never could keep anything from JB, _Tara thought.

"I don't like Sookie's fiancé. As far as I can tell, the man's an obnoxious, conceited, judgmental, arrogant jackass. I have no idea what she sees in him. Whacko wore a sunblocker cap at breakfast. In the dining room, JB. We were sitting in the friggin' dining room! But the worst is that he's mean to the kids! Those kids got enough to deal with. I mean we all love them to death, but here we are trying to figure out how to fit them into our lives. Jase and I don't know much about dealing with the kids and Sook's supposed to be going back to Dallas so she can marry Bill."

Tara paused to take a breath and JB looked at her, his hand softly trailing along her back. "Is it possible that you're making this Bill out to be the villain because you don't want your sister to leave?" Tara pulled away sharply from JB and bestowed a scathing look on her fiancé. _Uh-oh_, he thought. _Troubles ahead. Now, that is the look I need to steer clear of._

"No! What am I? A bitch all of a sudden?" Tara was incensed. "I wouldn't invent problems with my sister's fiancé just because it's more convenient for me that she break up with him. For fucks sake, JB. If you think I'm capable of stooping to that, maybe we should rethink this whole marriage thing."

_Ouch. _JB had had to think quickly to fix that one. "Tara, I'm sorry. I wasn't — and I wouldn't ever — say you were doing it in purpose. I thought maybe it was — you know — like psychology or something. Maybe you didn't know you were doing it." _Think, JB_. "I know how much you've missed your family and you and Sook were always close. I know you'd never be selfish to want something bad for her. But Sook's a smart girl. I have a hard time believing she'd marry a guy who's that much of a jerk."

Tara frowned.

"You're right," she looked at him, "about Sook. I just don't get it. This whole thing is weird. I've been wondering about how to bring it up with her. She's always so stubborn. Remember the mighty Quinn?"

JB nodded silently. There really wasn't much to say about that.

"You think he's threatening her or something? I don't know how he could, though. I'm pretty sure each of us, down to Hunter, could take him in a fight."

At that JB threw back his head and laughed.

"Tar, the picture you're painting of this guy is unbelievable. You realize this, right?" He continued to snicker as he looked at her expectantly.

Tara returned his look, nodding.

"I know, I know. JB DuRone," Tara nodded her head emphatically. "I am not exaggerating. It is not my time of the month. I am not jealous. That man is...just...unbelievable. Pam was telling me and Maxine about the kids and Bill talking this morning. He's horrible to them. And they're at an impressionable age and they don't have mama and daddy. They just have us. It's our job to protect them and my gut is telling me to keep Bill away from them. But I'm not sure how. If Sook moves home...if she decides to bring Bill with her. Well, I can't say to her 'no, you two can't live here.' Heck, I don't even have a job. If they're going to move in and pay the bills, what can I say?"

As Tara finished her rant, JB nodded and folded her into a warm bear hug. She breathed in his scent and basked in the comfort of his safe embrace.

_Hmm, I missed this _she thought.

"Don't you dare be hard on yourself. You only got here a few days ago. You haven't even looked for a job yet. Maybe you'll have something by the end of the week. Or the end of the day."

Tara leaned back to look at JB. How could she ever have thought living without him was a good idea? It just seemed silly now.

"You're too sweet." She laid a palm on either side of his face.

"No, I'm not. I just want you to be happy. And not worry so much. It'll all work out. You'll see. You and Jase — all you really got to do is love those kids. You do that in spades. They'll be all right. You'll see."

Tara leaned in for a kiss. JB obliged.

Suddenly, the sound of "you've got mail" jarred Tara from her reverie, away from her memories of her morning conversation with JB.

_Damn. I gotta stop mooning. I'll see him in a bit and I need to focus on getting a job._

Glancing at the computer screen, she realized the email that just arrived was from the man himself. Reading it, she let out an irritated sigh.

_Hm, getting blown off already_, I see. _Tar,_

_Got a lead on a possible big sale. Out of the area, though. Bit of a hike. I'm going to have to raincheck lunch. We're still very much on for dinner. Don't miss me too much. I'll see you around 5:30._

_JB_

Tara shook her head, telling herself she was being silly. She reminded herself she liked it when JB showed ambition. One of the teensy things she used to fault him with before was the fact that she thought he lacked ambition. Settling into the business with Mike. Continuing to live with his parents. Both not real big indicators of 'oomph' as far as Tara was concerned. But she couldn't deny he'd done well for himself. And getting business outside the area, building the business, surely that was more important than them having a little lovin' in the afternoon, wasn't it?

Except that they'd hadn't had any 'alone' time since yesterday morning. And it was all still new. They should be tearing each other's clothes off every chance they get.

_Argh! I am not gonna do this. _She told herself. _JB and I are fine. It's like a workday. I can't fault him for not being at my beck and call. If he had a regular 9 to 5 job, I wouldn't expect him to come home for lunch. I wouldn't want him to quit or get fired just to spend time with me._

Once she had sufficiently calmed herself down, Tara went back to her online job search. Although her last job was doing marketing for a publishing house, she figured she needed to do a wider search and not limit herself to one field. Bon Temps and Shreveport were not so big that there were publishing houses around. She doubted her NYC job even existed in the area.

Hours later, Tara continued to scroll down listings on . She was really not thrilled with what she was finding. Which was a whole lot of nothing.

Finally her eyes settled on a posting.

**

* * *

EVENTS COORDINATOR/PLANNER SELF-MOTIVATED, GO-TO NEEDED FOR BUSY, GROWING FIRM.**

**HEAVILY INVOLVED WITH FILM INDUSTRY AS FIRM HAS WORKED CLOSELY WITH CITY OF SHREVEPORT TO ATTRACT MOVIE AND TELEVISION SHOOTS**

**F. MOTT ASSOCIATES**

* * *

Tara gasped at the name. _Wow_, she thought. _I wonder if it's Frank?_

Franklin (Frank) Mott had been her first boyfriend a million and a half years ago. First lover, too. They'd broken up but it wasn't a bad breakup or anything. They'd just been young and they got bored of doing the same-old, same-old all the time. Actually, Frank was ugly as sin —bad acne and ears that stuck out too much — but he was funny as hell she recalled fondly. He cracked her up all the time. He definitely had a way about him. Her nickname for him was "Jughead" on account of his ears. He called her "Baby Vamp" although for the life of her she couldn't remember why. They used to watch old movies together. Maybe he was feeling inspired after they'd watched an old Marlene Dietrich movie.

Wow, that would be incredible if that company was really Frank's. Tara would be seriously impressed if he'd actually started up his own business.

After a little internal debate, She finally decided to email her resume and cover letter for the events coordinator position. If it had been a blind ad and she hadn't known the company's name, it was totally the type of job she would apply for. She didn't know for sure it was Frank's company. Possibly it wasn't. And, _if it was _... well, they hadn't parted on bad terms or anything. Even if she didn't get a job, she thought it would be nice to reconnect with an old friend since she was back.

Done, Tara settled back into perusing postings, researching companies, and emailing resumes.

A little after 4 pm, she was startled when her cell phone rang. Glancing at the number, she quickly realized it was an unfamiliar Shreveport number. Considering, she figured maybe it was a callback on one of the dozen or so resumes she had sent out.

Bracing herself with a directive-_Sound cheerful, confident, and self-motivated__ —_she answered the call.

"Hello? "

"Tara?"

Eyes wide, Tara was catching flies. "Oh my God! Frank?"

**

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**

**AN: So my little gerbils, how are we doing? LMFAO. I'm so kidding. I hate when people do that. So condescending. Anyhoo, my game plan is to wrap this up ASAP! The original pub date is April 5, 2010. I want to be done with the repost by April 4, 2011.**

**I've started writing other stuff too (I'm not sayin' what) and I'm taking a ten-week class starting in April (you'll never guess.)**

**OMG, wanna guess? If anyone guesses right, I'll let you know. Feel free to go as wrong as you like with your guesses. I deserve it. Some of you are pretty fucking twisted. I throw down the gauntlet. C'mon, guess...**

**Miral is writing _ and is taking a class in _. [Can you tell I love Mad Libs.] **


	60. Up in the Tree House

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

* * *

**Chapter Sixty: Up in the Tree House**

Hours later, Sookie pulled the Buick into the driveway. During the last hour at the mall, Bill had _finally_ dropped his act a bit. Sookie felt more clued in to the reason for Bill's wackiness.

When he refused to accept her breaking up with him, she _knew _he had an ulterior motive. She knew it wasn't just him acting crazy; it was him acting sly like a fox. Towards the end of their outing, he had started dropping hints.

"Sookie—?"

"Yeah, Bill?"

"You know what I think would be wonderful?"

_Flaming shit, Bill. I haven't a goddamned clue you fucking head case. _"No, Bill. What do you think would be wonderful?" She asked him stiffly. Though curious, she also didn't want to encourage him.

"A second chance at my life's dream." Bill's eyes were staring forward, his face a mask, as he said this. She gave him a sideways glance.

_What the fuck is he going on about now?_

Then suddenly it came to her. She got it. She unraveled the puzzle. She understood his resistance to their breaking up.

He knew he couldn't prevent it but he wasn't going to just go away easily.

He wasn't going to just walk away gracefully and with dignity.

No. Not Bill. Bill was going to hang on by an annoying thread and see what he could get out of it.

The problem was that what he now obviously wanted was not something Sookie could give him.

No, Bill wanted the impossible. A second chance at his 'life's dream.'

Bill wanted to fulfill his dream of a Hollywood career.

Conveniently enough, Sookie and her family were living with not one but two hot Hollywood powerbrokers who potentially could make Bill's dream a reality.

_Un-fucking-believable._

Bill was basically blackmailing her. For him to be amenable to the break-up, and leave her alone, in peace, minus the ongoing lunacy, she needed to help him get his fucking 'dream career.' What the heck?

A few minutes later, Sookie let herself into the house, with Bill close behind her. Jason's car was out front, so she knew the boys were back with the kids and Long Shadow. But where the heck was everyone?

"Hey? Hello? Hey?" She called out. Odd. The house seemed empty unless everyone had gone to their respective rooms, which seemed unlikely.

Her cell phone buzzed. Looking down she saw a text from an unfamiliar number.

**E: We're at the treehouse installing cameras. Kids say you're invited. Just you. Eric**

Sookie smiled. _Cute_. She replied,

**S: Thanks. Need anything from house?**

A few seconds later came his response.

**E: You opened Pandora's box. Kids want food. Jase wants beer.**

**S: You?**

**E: You.**

_Agh_, thought Sookie. _I've really got a problem if a one-syllable text message makes me melt. _She smiled. She couldn't help it.

**S: Ok. 10 min.**

Sookie figured she'd get Bill situated first. Of course, to her, right then, getting Bill 'situated' meant tying him up in a straightjacket and locking him a padded room. Unfortunately, she figured that wouldn't be possible. Instead, she hoped he had some work he could keep himself busy with.

"Bill?" She frowned realizing he probably wouldn't answer her. She figured her foot was pretty much okay now. She could still feel it twinge, but it hadn't given way. Fuck, she'd been on her feet most of the afternoon window-shopping with a mental case. Bill had her so damn nuts throughout the day, she likely wouldn't have noticed if her damn leg fell off.

Wandering from the dining room —she noted Long Shadow was lying comfortably under the table—to the study to the living room, she finally found Bill reading one of his journals.

_Thank God he seems settled in _she thought.

"Bill, Jase, Eric and the kids are working on the tree house. I'm bringing them sweet tea and snacks." Debating the golden hospitality rule, Sookie finally just opted to toss it out the window. "You know where the kitchen is if you get hungry or thirsty. Okay?"

"Yes, darling. Of course." He looked up from his journal and gave her a thin-lipped smile.

_Yes, darling. Of course. Fucking lunatic_. Sookie rolled her eyes. She started to turn when Bill's voice stopped her.

"It's an important thing, you know...to chase after one's heart's desire."

Sookie looked at Bill. She knew he was talking about himself, but she couldn't help but recognize how—in that moment—the words resonated within her. She nodded stiffly and went to the kitchen to grab snacks and drinks for the crew in the tree house.

Ten minutes later Sookie was standing at the ladder at the foot of the oak tree looking up at the tree house, a picnic basket in her hand. Hunter was the first one to spot her. He poked his head out.

"Hey Sook, we watched you walk over. See the camera?" he pointed to a camera positioned on the tree. "It's got a motion sensor and it follows when someone comes near the tree. We got a monitor screen in here. We got three. One for inside the tree house. One for upstairs. One for the study. Isn't that cool?"

Sookie bit her lower lip. _Cool? Maybe. Expensive? Definitely_. She didn't have to ask who paid for all the new toys.

"Oh, and we got other cameras for the house, too. Eric says its okay 'cause it's an investment!"

"Oh, okay, then. Yeah, Hunt, they're very cool. I'm coming up. I've got sweet tea and snacks. Ladder secure?"

Hunter tucked his head back in to talk to his cohorts. "Eric's gonna come down for the basket and hold the ladder steady for you." Sookie smiled. Of course he is.

Sookie watched the tree house entrance as Eric's head popped out, smiling at her. He disappeared again, then his right leg appeared followed by his left leg. Before she knew what hit her, Sookie realized she was watching Eric's beautiful form make its way down the ladder. So intent on staring at his gorgeous bottom, he had to pause a few steps up and clear his throat to let her know she needed to back up to give him room to finish his descent. Embarrassed to be caught so clearly ogling him, Sookie's face quickly flushed pink.

Once Eric was on terra firma, the couple just stared at one another. Incredibly, ridiculously, Sookie realized how much she'd missed him during the day. She smiled at him.

Eric, seeing that beautiful carefree smile replace the worried frown on her face wasted no time in bending down to drop a kiss on her lips.

Sookie, for once, didn't give a damn who saw them. It didn't take long for the kiss to heat up. The least likely of cock-blockers found himself playing that role as Jason's head suddenly popped out above them.

"Hey, you-all forget about the cameras already? Keep it G-rated down there. We got kids up here."

Sookie's mouth dropped open. She glanced up at the tree-house. Jason shrugged and retreated back inside the tree-house.

Sookie's mouth still in 'catching flies' mode, Eric did something he'd wanted to do for days. He leaned down captured her bottom lip with his teeth and playfully shut it for her. Realizing what he was doing, Sookie giggled.

"You laugh, but I think each of you Stackhouses needs an official mouth shutter. You all do it. It's a hazard."

Sookie laughed again. "How is it a hazard?"

"Well, with you it is, at any rate. You're already gorgeous. But with that bottom lip slightly open, it's damn distracting."

"Oh," she giggled again. "So, I'm a hazard like driving towards a sunset is a hazard?"

"Yes," his eyes laughing. "Exactly."

Eric and Sookie's exchange was interrupted by a voice from above. A different one. Amelia.

"Sook, I'm sorry. Believe me, with everything I've d—huh—going on, I'm the last one who'd wanna run a cock- block, but I'm hungry. Can we get the food? Please. You two can stay down there!"

Amelia's request jarred Sookie back to reality. She took a step back from Eric.

"Coming right up, Ame!" she called.

After a brief debate on who would climb up the ladder first—Sookie was so happy she'd changed into jeans before going out— Sookie climbed up first, while Eric held it still for her. As he watched her go up, he repaid her on the ladder ogling. Then he launched himself up a few steps at once, holding on with one hand, he handed off the food basket to Sookie, who hung over the edge held by Jason. Reaching the top, Eric hoisted a leg over the edge and then with a lift of his second leg, the group was settled in once more.

Eric smiled.

Sookie was looking around at everyone. The kids dug into the basket immediately and were eating. A slightly disturbing thought found its way to her consciousness.

"Jase, do we know the tree can support this many people? We gotta have nearly a half ton with all of us. Did you and JB figure the maximum construction load?"

Jason looked at his sister. Maximum construction load? Shit, they built the thing a couple of years earlier while he was home on leave. He didn't think he knew what a 'maximum construction load' was back then. He wasn't sure he knew what it was _now._

"Sook, it's nearly 3-foot wide. Trees are made of wood. And houses are made of wood. But then you got all the weaknesses, 'cause of the nails and joints and stuff. Just think of it this way: we eliminated all that weak stuff, so that the tree house should be solid. Able to withstand a...a whole lot." Jason, quieted, was thoughtful as he grabbed a sandwich. Recalling lessons learned from his stint in the military, he revised his comment.

"Sook, if you're worried, maybe I could—with Eric's help—reinforce the house some. Add some 2X4's, brackets, brace it up. What ya think?"

Sookie nodded. "Yeah, Jase. I'd feel better. Especially if we're gonna have more clubhouse meetings like this." She laughed. "I joked about adding an addition to the tree house. Maybe we actually need to think about it."

Mouths full of food didn't deter the teacup Stackhouses from weighing in on that.

"Oh, Sook, can we? Can we?" this from Hunter.

"That's a good idea. I can help. More than when I was little." This from Hoyt.

"I was afraid we'd have to come up with a door policy. Aside from 'No Douche Bags', there's no one else in the house I'd exclude." This from Amelia.

Looking at her younger siblings, Sookie realized she'd opened a _real Pandora's box _with her comment. _Yikes_.

"Well, let's think about the reinforcement and then we'll consider making it bigger. Okay?"

The kids nodded.

"So, tell me about your day? How did it go at Hotshot?"

Sookie watched her brother exchange a glance with Eric and then the three kids look at one another. Then they all burst out laughing.

What the heck?

The five of them described the day in fits and starts. Not surprised to hear Jason had hooked up with Tanya Grissom a few years back, Sookie was truly shocked and disgusted to hear Jason 'knew' Crystal Norris in the Biblical sense, as well.

"Ew, Jase. That's all I can say. Didn't you think it was a bad idea? You know? The mother-daughter thing?"

"Sook, I swear, I didn't realize. I hooked up with Crystal maybe 8-9 years ago. I knew her as Crissy Myers. Knew she had a baby. Thought she was a hot mama. Didn't realize she was a Norris. Didn't realize she had a teen-ager too." Jason finished.

"Sook, you should have seen it. Those two skanks wanted to jump both Jason and Eric's bones." Hunter informed his sister.

Raised eyebrow, Sookie looked over at Eric. He met her eyes. She could tell he was bemused.

"Oh? That right?"

"Yeah."

"Actually, Sook, it kind of felt like they were gonna keep us there until Jase and Eric agreed to come back and ...uh..let them have their way with them." Amelia explained this and then pretended to vomit.

"Wow, that sounds serious. How'd you all get out of it?"

Amelia and Hunter started to explain, their words coming out in a rush, all at once, but then all three of the kids just burst out laughing. Unable to stop laughing, they collapsed, rolling around on the floor. An infectious belly laugh going around, all six of them were soon in hysterics. Sookie's eyes were watering. Her nose was running. She was hyperventilating. She still didn't know _why_. After a good ten minutes, things had calmed down enough for Sookie to speak.

"Okay," her gaze darted around to each of them before settling on Eric. "How did you escape Hotshot?"

Eric supplied the answer. "Jason and I pretended to be a couple."

Sookie didn't get it at first. "A couple of what?"

"A couple." Eric winked for good measure.

Sookie —wide-eyed— looked from Eric to her brother and back again. She erupted into a new fit of laughter. "Those two skanks believed that? Jesus H. They're trash and dumb as oatmeal? Jase, you slept with both of them! BOTH OF THEM! Aren't you insulted that they think it's even possible you're gay?" Sookie asked her brother this, her eyes guileless, her voice tinged with wonder.

Jason looked over at Sookie and it became apparent to her that it hadn't occurred to him to be insulted that they believed it possible that he could be gay. Frowning, Jason decided to table the discussion.

"Sook, I think this conversation might be best without the peapods around." Jason gestured with his eyes and Sookie, nodded, embarrassed. Jason was, of course, totally right. So not appropriate talk for the kids to hear.

"Okay then, so that's how Hotshot went. And you got all the camera equipment I see. Rest of the day went well?"

The kids took turns describing the rest of the day, with Eric and Jason periodically confirming random details. Sookie was—she realized belatedly— beyond pleased it had gone so well. Eric seemed to have some innate wealth of patience for dealing with kids and that label applied to Jason, as well. Jason who joked about trading in his beer goggles for night vision goggles. Truthfully, it was clear that the kids —and Jason — seemed to have welcomed Eric into the family already. Now, it was just a matter of her heart—or was it her head?— catching up to everyone else.

"Sook? Sook? Woohoo, Sook?"

Jolted from her thoughts, Sookie realized her brother had been trying to get her attention. "Huh, Jase? What's up?"

"I asked you how your day went?"

Sookie's eyes registered his question then shut tightly. She sighed and took several deep breaths before opening them again. She frowned.

"That good, huh? You might as well tell us. We're all," Jason started to laugh looking over at the boys and Amelia, "going to have to climb down the ladder and go back in the house with your douche—er —fiancé," he corrected himself at his sister's snarl, "at some point. Might as well give us the heads up for whatever douche—er— might be upsetting him before we see him."

Sookie listened to Jason's invite and, while part of her was thinking it inappropriate to say anything in front of the kids, another part thought that maybe they were old enough to not be shielded from this fucktarded power play of Bill's. Okay. Here goes nothing.

"I told Bill I didn't want to marry him. I was moving back to Bon Temps. And I was," she glanced shyly at Eric and felt the blush spread along her neck, "interested in dating someone else."

_Good girl, _Eric thought.

_Fanfuckingtastic_, Jason thought.

"Yes, yes! It worked! I mean, Thank God," Amelia rang out.

"Cool," Hoyt said.

"About fucking time!" Hunter chimed in.

Sookie frowned at the three kids. Then she met Eric's eyes. For the first time, it was registering with Eric that if this had gone as it should have (1) Sookie would be more pleased and (2) the flesh-colored Buick and its douche bag owner would be long gone.

What happened?

"Sookie, what did Bill say to that?" Eric sought her eyes.

Sookie laughed, a frazzled, mirthless laugh. "What did Bill say? Oh let me think. Oh yeah. That's right: 'No'."

"No?" Eric asked.

"No."

"Geez, Sook, that doesn't make any fucking sense." Jason didn't understand how that was an appropriate response.

"Oh, I know that, Jason! Believe me! I spent the whole day explaining it to him. I got into a wrestling match in Appleby's trying to get the damn jackass to take his stupid ring back. We almost got tossed out."

"Sook," Amelia interjected, "how can he just say 'no'?" Amelia was wracking her brain to remember her spells. Did any have any loopholes that she didn't realize?

"Ame, I don't know what's going on in his head. He says he believes he and I are meant to be together. We can rise above anything... blah...blah...blah...and," she averted her gaze to not meet Eric's when the next words came out, "and we'll still have each other once other 'infatuations' have dissipated."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Manipulative conniving asshole." Realizing everyone was staring at him and the three kids were smiling, Eric grinned. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, like you wanted to kill him," Amelia answered.

Sookie shook her head, groaning.

Thinking, Eric pieced a few things together. "Did he tell you he wanted something?"

Sookie looked at Eric, her eyes wide. "Not in so many words, but he dropped some clues and I think I figured it out."

_Well? _Everyone stared at Sookie waiting for her to spill.

"Ah, Eric. It has to do with you..."

"Me? What does?"

"What Bill wants." She took a breath. "Eric, Bill went to UCLA. He was a few years behind you but you were there at the same time. He wanted to act. He tried out for some shows or plays but never got a part. He kind of blames you."

Eric had just been staring at Sookie as she relayed this story. Then it came back to him. He sucked in a breath, feeling as though he'd been sucker-punched.

"Shit. Oh my God. Bill is 'Angsty John Travolta'. I'd said I'd never forget him. Wow." Wow.

"'Angsty John Travolta'?" Jason could barely get the words out. "What the fuck is an 'Angsty John Travolta'?"

"We did a performance of 'Grease' one year. Bill auditioned for one of the male leads. He sang 'Greased Lightning,' as I recall. "

All five of the Stackhouses were staring at Eric. Catching flies. Finally Sookie recovered. "I've heard Bill sing. He sounds like a cross between a bad Elvis impersonator and a dying junkyard cat."

"I concur," agreed Eric.

"So what happened?" Jason was trying to picture it.

"He didn't get a part. I told him to try for others. I could picture him in dramas but not a musical comedy."

"Did he ever get to act in anything?" This from Amelia.

"Oh, no. Well, nothing I produced. He didn't try out again. I suppose he could've gotten a role somewhere."

Sookie, frowning, looked at her siblings. "Well, uh, I think he wants a second chance at stardom."

"No..." Eric replied.

Jason sucked in a breath.

The kids, wide-eyed were mostly silent. Sookie thought Hunter mumbled something that sounded like 'Douche Bag Alphabet: The Musical.'

Finally Jason broke the silence. "Well, what does 'Angsty John Travolta' want from you?"

"Not so much from me," Sookie looked from Jason to Eric.

"But from me." Eric supplied. It wasn't a question.

"So, he hasn't said anything?" Jason asked.

"No, not beyond wanting his second chance at his dream. Oh, and his 'heart's desire.'"

Amelia and Hunter both rolled her eyes. Hoyt looked stupefied. Jason made a face. Eric remained impassive.

"How do you know that's what he's talking about?" This from Hoyt.

"Well, what else would he mean?" Hunter replied. "Douche bag can have all the muffins he wants. He can sit on the toilet reading his boring magazines for hours and hours. No one's gonna bother him on the bowl 'cause everybody who knows him probably likes him best when he's in a different room."

Everyone turned to stare at Hunter. It was one of those occasions when they just couldn't believe how right-on his words were. Kid was too smart for his own good. Always knew too much.

"Sookie, what if what he wants is a second chance with you?" Amelia offered her two cents.

"Well," Sookie paused, breathing in the fresh country air. "I guess I don't know for certain. He hasn't exactly been straightforward about it." Remembering something, Sookie's voice took on a new tenor of injured shock. "He actually had this idea that he and I would just move to Massachusetts! Who just steals a girl from her family and friends and brings them to Massachusetts?"

Sookie closed her eyes in quiet contemplation. Everyone else was quiet.

"So you're not going, right, Sook?" Hunter asked, his usually confident voice sounding oddly vulnerable.

Sookie's eyes shot wide open. _No. No! _"Heck, no! Hunt, don't worry so much." Sookie opened her arms for a hug and Hunter crawled over for a reassuring snuggle. She laid a kiss at the top of his head. Eric watched enviously.

Pretty soon, everyone was a bit misty-eyed, but they needed to get back to brass tacks.

"Well, I'm only going on suspicions. I could flat out ask him what he wants."

"What if he won't tell you?" Amelia was playing devil's advocate.

"Well, he's got to. How does he expect to get what he wants if he never tells me what it is?"

"But, then he'll get to stay around longer, while you try to figure it out. Can't we just call Bud to have him hauled away?" Amelia suggested.

"I don't think," Sookie looked over at Eric, whose face was thoughtful, "that having the sheriff come to the house would be a good thing right now."

"Why not?" This from Hunter.

"Well, Eric and Pam get mentioned in the paper a lot. It might be bad for their careers if there's a story in the paper about police coming to their home to arrest someone." Sookie frowned. "Besides Bill is technically an invited guest."

There was a thoughtful silence as everyone considered the Bill dilemma.

"Well, if he's going to insist on continuing with this ponderous hinting and not just spilling it, I guess I could try to find out some other way," she frowned. "I don't like the idea of snooping around and spying on someone, but it's my —our house. We legally can do what we want —"

Eric gave Sookie a look of surprise. Snooping? Spying? Possibly using small cameras acquired for the purpose of filming squirrel sex? And tiny sound-activated recorders intended for God-knows-what? Was Pam psychic?...Eric was jolted back into the present by Hoyt.

"We could use cameras to spy on him. Uncle Felipe put a camera in Aunt Linda's bathroom. He said it was for 'safety reasons,'" Hoyt informed his oldest sister.

_What? WHAT?_

"WHAT? Felipe put a camera in the ..." Sookie's words trailed off. "Does Aunt Linda know?"

"Oh, no."This came from Hunter. "He told Hoyt and me not to say anything or he was gonna send us to Las Vegas to work for minimum wage."

"WHAT?"

If looks could kill, Felipe DeCastro would've been struck down in that moment. Sookie looked positively vicious. Eric was completely turned on.

"What? Are you telling me that fucker threatened you?"

"Aw, Sook, he says it all the time. He's joking. I don't think he means anything by it," Hoyt shrugged. Hunter shrugged.

"Sookie, I tried to tell you," Amelia said. Sookie glanced over her sister.

"Yeah, you did, didn't you? I owe you an apology, Amelia." She turned to her youngest brothers. Giving them a pointed look, she asked, "Why didn't you two tell me what was going on at Aunt Linda's? I would've had you out of there in minutes. "

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a guilty look. A nonverbal debate finished, Hoyt took the lead in responding.

"We wanted to be adults about it. We figured it was just for the year. If it was gonna be for longer, then we would've said something," Hoyt shrugged. "I guess."

Sookie had to take a few deep breaths. It was a hard thing to hear. She'd always regarded herself as the responsible one, the one who got everything—everyone—taken care of. But here she'd dropped the ball and failed at the most important responsibility she'd ever had: taking care of the kids. Her face wet with tears, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Eric leaned over and gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. She threw him a grateful look.

"Well, Sook," Jason figured it was water under the bridge, "what's done is done. Don't matter. We're all home. We're all good. Well, we got a problem with an unwanted guest, but aside from that, things couldn't be any better."

Sookie looked around at Ame and her "men" and nodded. "Yep, got that right." Deep in thought, she bit her lower lip. "We just need to figure out how to get rid of the unwanted guest."

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**AN: Somehow this under-appreciated little chapter has risen to the surface to become one of my favorites. I honestly don't know how it happened. Also, I realize it's probably logistically impossible to have a tree house that big but remember this fic is part Disney, so just _believe_...**

**Thank you so much for the reviews! I know a lot is made about numbers of reviews, but I love when I get a review from someone I've never heard from before. So even if you just write one, a little something to let the author know what you think of the story, well it means a lot.**

**Sorry I haven't been good with replying lately. I've been focusing on writing. **


	61. Pam's Showstopper

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter 61: Pam's Showstopper**

By the time the tree house crew finally made their way down, they had a plan. Sort of.

_SOOKIE _was going to try talking to Bill again. As much as she didn't want to, she would. She was going to ask him more questions. Questions like what exactly he saw as their hypothetical future and what it might theoretically take to get him to just go away.

Of course, there was always the chance they would luck out and Bill would decide to leave of his own accord. He did have a job in Dallas that he would need to get back to eventually. But Sookie knew he'd revised his schedule so he could stay in Louisiana with her for a bit.

An act of generosity two days ago now seemed like a deliberate act to push her to the brink of insanity.

If Bill's bosses in Dallas squawked at his not coming in, she figured he'd argue that he didn't need to show his face in the office as long as he was handing in his assignments. In fact, taking Hunter's theory a step further, with Bill not there to annoy them in person, maybe his bosses in Dallas might promote him or give him a raise while he was gone.

Remembering her little brother's observation on Bill, Sookie smiled. Hunter was one sharp cookie as their gran would say. Bill's likeability factor definitely did go up the further away he was. Who knew this better than she? That was probably the reason why she'd agreed to marry him. With their work schedules and the fact that they lived on opposite ends of Dallas, they hardly saw one another. Sookie grinned.

_What was that Thomas Hardy quote? Oh, yes. "Love lives on propinquity. Dies on contact." Sounds about right, _Sookie thought.

Sookie's biggest fear was that Bill would prolong his stay throughout the summer. Just when the Stackhouses should be having fun family time after being apart for so long—especially with Jason home— they'll have Boorish Bill time, instead.

Not fair.

In any event, if Bill failed to open up to her and tell her what he wanted from them, they would have to resort to Plan B.

_Hmm, Plan B...What the heck was Plan B again? Oh, yeah. Plan B involved flat-out spying on Bill._

Sookie really hoped they would not have to resort to Plan B. She figured Plan B would involve her playing some femme fatale game. She really didn't want to do that. At least, she didn't want to do that with Bill. The other Plan B alternative Eric had suggested was Pam. As odd as it was to think of Pam -what?- pursuing Bill to get the truth out of him— like a sarcastic Lesbian Mata Hari — Sookie would actually prefer Pam do it. Call her crazy, but Sookie had a feeling that Pam would enjoy playing psychological head games with Bill.

Debating the question of whether she ought to try speaking to Bill before or after dinner, Sookie finally came to the conclusion that she would not be able to concentrate on anything else until she'd gotten the deed over and done with. So, after a little quiet time in her room to focus, she went downstairs in search of Bill.

**

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**

_ERIC, in the meantime_, had been planning on inviting the kids down to the "Over My Dead Body" set for a visit and he was hoping Sookie would come with them. He refrained from mentioning it while they were out as he figured it was wiser to ask Sookie first and let her decide whether or not it was a good idea. Eric felt deferring to her as the head of the household would score him some points. Also, he was hesitant to bring it up in front of Jason, because his plan did _not _include getting Jason alone in his trailer. Besides, after their Hotshot outing, Eric would be concerned that if he brought Jason down to the set, he'd hit on every female they had on staff.

_And possibly their mothers as well_, he laughed to himself.

So, once they'd climbed down from the tree house, Eric had pulled Sookie aside and posed the suggestion to her. He was very pleased when she said 'yes' without hesitation. She actually seemed excited about the idea. Once on the set, Eric figured he'd have Laffy or possibly Claudine — if she was around — babysit the kids so he and Sookie could steal a little quality time alone.

If Laffy or Claudine weren't able to babysit, Eric had no doubt he could find no fewer than a dozen crew members ready, willing and able to do his bidding. It was good being the star of the show.

Eric knew Sookie was going to try talking to Bill again. Soon. That night. If her attempt was unsuccessful, then they would have to give serious thought to Plan B.

Plan B, Eric suspected, would involve the surveillance cameras. Possibly a very small wireless voice activated recording device. Possibly Sookie. Preferably Pam. What they would have to do remained a question.

If Bill wanted to be an actor, they needed him to admit it. If he wanted or expected help, he would have to let them know at some point. They wouldn't be able to help him if he didn't spell out what he wanted.

Now, if Bill was planning on forcing he and Pam to give him an acting role by threatening them with his continued unwelcome presence and the bad publicity associated with getting the police involved, Eric assumed that, as it would clearly be extortion, it would be illegal. Eric figured Bill knew this and that was why he was so reticent to come out and actually say anything. Eric thought the whole matter warranted a phone call to his attorney, Damon Cataliades.

Eric snickered. He couldn't decide what was the bigger crime: Extortion or unleashing 'Angsty John Travolta' on an unsuspecting movie-going audience?

As for getting in touch with Cataliades, the last thing Eric wanted was to bring the police to the farm. It was as much to protect Sookie and her family, as it was to protect his and Pam's careers. The Stackhouses had already suffered the unfortunate incident of the 'America's Most Wanted' tenants. They didn't need another blemish on their family name. Especially in a town as small as Bon Temps. Eric trusted his lawyer to advise him on how best to handle the Bill situation.

By 'best' Eric did not mean 'legal.'

Hearing a buzz, Eric pulled out his cell phone.

**P: vm from Lattesta at National Intruder. Wants comment on your "new relationship". WTF did you do today Northman?**

Eric frowned. The clicking sound from earlier in the day had totally and completely slipped his mind.

_This_, he thought, _is not going to be good._

**E: Where are you?**

**P: didn't like condition of car. Having it detailed. Dealer kept shop open to comply. Getting dinner with Maxine while we wait. Tell Sookie she can make dinner.**

Eric grinned. Pam was telling him to give Sookie permission to make dinner in her own home. That, he knew, would go over well...

**E: sure. See you soon.**

**P: I'll call Lattesta when I get home. Do I want to know?**

Eric remembered his and Jason's "La Cage Aux Folles" act at Hotshot. Under normal circumstances, Pam would find the story amusing. If she needed to exert a lot of energy convincing people it wasn't true, she would be very very angry.

Pam got annoyed anytime she had to exert a lot of energy. This was why she'd perfected the ability to get things done based on the sheer force of her personality. Only Pam could parlay innate laziness into an indomitable character strength.

**E: later. Enjoy dinner. Best to Maxine.**

With that Eric snapped his phone shut and went to find Sookie and relay the dinner message.

**

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**

_JASON, meanwhile_, never did make it to work on the road crew Monday. Catfish Hennessey called late in the afternoon to say the guy he thought wasn't going to make it in did, so Jase wasn't needed. However, they could use Jason for most of the day Tuesday because Rene Lenier had a court appearance.

_Fuckawesome_, Jason thought. _Full day of work_. Then Catfish started spouting off some really strange shit that kind of freaked Jason out. Dude asked him if Jason thought people would think it weird if he just up and changed his name to Catfish Hunter. Jason, caught off-guard, said, "hell, yeah! I'm freaked out you just asking me about it!" They'd hung up soon after that. The whole weirdness got Jase to thinking that Ole Catfish was knocking on senility's door. Or maybe senility was knocking on the door of Catfish's brain? Well, whatever. Jason hated to be a self- serving prick, but if Ole Catfish was losing his marbles, young Jase was gonna...uh...pick them up.

Truth be told, the other guys on the road crew were always in and out of jail for various crimes and misdemeanors. If Jason were able to get on the crew, when Catfish finally starts pitching balls at culverts and reporting for work wearing Yankee pinstripes, Jason would be right there, ready to take over.

Yeah, if the name-change conversation was any indication, Catfish had Yankee bats in the bellfry that were probably gonna start flying pretty soon. Maybe Jason would be crew manager in a few years.

_That would be real good_, he thought. What wasn't good was realizing he'd done a mother-daughter team. No, Jason amended his thought. _That _part was actually kind of awesome. It was the particular mother-daughter team that was all wrong. _Geez_, Jason thought.

_Crystal is only ten years older than me. But she is one fucking disgusting skank. Did I __really think she was a hot mama? I need to trade in my beer goggles for night vision goggles_.

As for Eric and Sookie, Jason was happy to see Eric make Sook forget all about Bill. Jason frowned. Well, she wouldn't forget about Bill, because he was still around and seemed to be stalking the whole family. But at least she wouldn't marry him. As far as Jason was concerned, Eric was way more fun for a brother-in-law. Rich, too.

**

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**

_THE TEACUP STACKHOUSES, _down from their lofty tree perch, found themselves convened in Amelia's room. At Amelia's direction, they were supposed to assess the status of _Operation: Douche Bag Removal._

Amelia had a dry-erase board she was using to keep track. They summarized their progress as follows:

**OPERATION: DOUCHE BAG REMOVAL**

**PLAN A: ERIC – MUCH PROGRESS!**

**PLAN B: PAM - UNKNOWN?**

**PLAN C: SAM – SENT TEXT; DID HE COME BY HOUSE ?**

The kids stared at the board, trying to figure out what they needed to do? Or even if they needed to do anything.

"Ame, I still think it's done and it was a success," Hoyt told his sister.

"Yeah, Ame. Eric practically had her top off while she was holding the picnic basket. You know what a freak Sook is about Southern hospitality and she was ready to just let us starve." This was Hunter's logical assessment.

Amelia looked at her two younger brothers.

"Well, yeah. I know Sook's not marrying Bill," Amelia smiled and put her hands together as if in prayer, and smiled, mouthing a silent 'thank you.' "But, we don't know for sure that she's gonna stay with Eric. And we still have Bill in the house."

"Ame, Eric is on it. As stubborn as Sook is, he got her to break up with Douche Bag after — what day is it?" Hunter turned to Hoyt.

"Monday," Hoyt supplied.

"After four fucking days! Eric's gonna have to keep her in line. We're out of it!" Hunter was quite emphatic on this point.

Amelia wasn't so comfortable resting on their laurels. Although she didn't say anything to her younger brothers, she still wondered if there was more they could do to 'seal the deal' between Eric and Sookie.

"Anyway," Hunter continued, "Pam may still have to work the Douche Bag to get him to confess what he's on about so we can get him to fucking leave."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. Hoyt was silent.

"And Sam's such a girl, I bet he was all 'aw shucks, golly gee. Should I visit Sook? Should I not visit Sook?' Might be a week before the guy finds his balls." Hunter said this with a straight face, just shaking his head solemnly.

Amelia and Hoyt both burst out laughing at their younger brother. Amelia relented. "Okay, you convinced me," Amelia smiled. "We're done for now. What did you say? Life or Battleship?"

"Battleship!" This from Hunter.

"Scrabble! But Douche Bag Alphabet Scrabble!" Hoyt suggested.

Amelia and Hunter both turned to Hoyt, stunned. "Hoyt, that's an AWESOME idea!" Amelia complimented her brother.

"Yeah, Hoyt. Good one," Hunter followed suit.

The three kids went downstairs to the study to pull out Scrabble and try out their new game.

**

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**

Hours later, the extended family sat at the dining table for a late dinner. Truthfully, most of them had had a snack at the tree house around four o'clock. The only one who hadn't was Bill. It occurred to Sookie, belatedly, that maybe if she stopped feeding Bill, he'd eventually go away.

_No_, she reasoned. _He'd probably just order his bran muffins for delivery._

She stifled a snicker.

Jason took his seat at the head of the table by the window. Eric and the kids filled in the spots nearest to him. Bill had left the other head spot open — Sookie assumed it was for her — and had taken a spot next to it. However, Sookie, rather than sit next to Bill, took a seat next to Hunter and across from Eric.

There were plenty of empty seats at dinner. Pam and Maxine were having dinner in Monroe. Tara was out with JB and would likely stay at his place overnight.

Tara...Sookie spared a moment's worry on her sister. They'd spoken briefly while Sookie was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Tara had called to check in. Sookie, recalling their conversation, frowned.

Apparently Tara had been offered a job after only a phone interview. The catch was that it was working for her former boyfriend Franklin Mott. While Tara had managed to work it into the conversation with Frank that she and JB were engaged, she didn't know if Franklin offered her the job because he knew her and knew he could trust her. Or if he thought maybe they could rekindle something. Tara said the money was good, the hours were flexible, travel was involved, and all-round, it sounded exciting and exactly the type of job Tara wanted.

Sookie, while appreciating Tara's desire to come home was genuine, was concerned that boredom and ennui would set in for Tara once the initial thrill at being home dissipated. Especially after living in New York and New Orleans for much of her adult life. This job with Frank sounded ideal. Of course, JB wasn't thrilled. Tara hadn't made her decision yet. She had asked Frank for some time to think it over and also suggested an in-person interview, tour of the office, and a meet-and-greet with the other staffers might be a good way to help her decide. Frank agreed.

Sookie noted that Jason seemed a little preoccupied. Said Catfish seemed to be getting 'up there'. Jason's hours were rescheduled for tomorrow. It would be good if he scored a permanent spot on the crew. Sookie wondered if maybe Jason could take over when Catfish retires.

Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter all shared a 'cat-that-ate-the-canary' look. Sookie met Amelia's eyes as her younger sister happened to glance up. Ame just smiled, happy as a lark.

_Geez, could they really just be that friggin thrilled that I'm not marrying Bill?_

Eric also seemed slightly preoccupied. She couldn't fault him for that.

_Well, heck_, she thought, _there's plenty to be preoccupied with._

Eric had helped her with dinner earlier so they'd had a chance to talk about how her conversation with Bill had gone. It hadn't gone well.

Sookie had entered the living room where Bill sat, nearly motionless, reading a journal. "Bill?" Pause.

Finally, "Yes, darling?"

"I would like to talk a little more about what we spoke of earlier."

"Our home furnishings?"

Sookie rolled her eyes heavenward. "No, not that. My not wanting to marry you and your refusal to accept it."

"Darling, I'm just looking out for you. Eric Northman is not an honorable man. He's not a fair man." _Did Bill's voice just catch? _"I'm hoping that if you learn from my experience, I can save you some heartache."

Sookie saw her opportunity. "Bill, your experience...You really would like to be an actor, wouldn't you?"

"Everyone has dreams, Sookie," he met her gaze. "Some are harder to give up than others."

"But acting made you happy, didn't it? It's your hearts desire, isn't it? That's what you meant, right?"

Bill sighed but didn't respond. Sookie really felt like kicking him in the nuts. Frustrated, she just laid it down for him.

"Bill, what do you want? I'm not marrying you. See?" she held up her ring-free hand. "You refused to take it back but I'm not wearing it. We are not marrying. I am not moving back to Texas. I'm not moving to Massachusetts. I'm not meeting you at midway points for 'quickies'-ew, gross!" She threw a horrified look at him, reliving her disgust at his suggestion. "So, you're not getting me. Not now. Not ever. Even if Eric Northman breaks my heart tomorrow, I'm not crawling back to you. Do you get it?"

Bill looked at Sookie, his face slightly pained. "Well, darling, I see you're still enraptured by his good looks and celebrity. When you're ready, I'll be there for you. Possibly," Bill quirked a slight smile, "I'll even be _here _for you." Implying, of course, that he'd still be right here. In the house. With her. Waiting. Watching.

"Bill, what if I said I wanted you to leave? I didn't want you here. What if I called the police to have you removed? "

"Darling, I don't know that you want police involved in a lovers quarrel. Besides, it would be unfortunate to have such a messy _and newsworthy _event occur at your home. What with the children and the guests? Besides, I thought you'd been upset by the past encounter with notoriety? America's Most Wanted?"

Bill smiled at her then. A smug, thin-lipped "I dare you to do something" smile. Sookie had never wanted to beat someone up so badly in her life. What the heck was wrong with him?

As far as she was concerned, getting Bud involved wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Her family had been in Bon Temps for generations. They could weather more nonsense if they had to. But, she didn't want to throw Eric and Pam under the bus and damage their careers by causing them bad publicity. This was why, Sookie figured, Eric mentioned talking to his lawyer. Talk to the lawyer and find out how he'd advise them to act.

Bill could not possibly think that this—what? Extortion? would work, could he? That refusing to take 'no' for an answer — that essentially stalking her in her own home! — would be an effective strategy for him to get what he wanted? He couldn't possibly believe that. Could he?

Sookie looked up from her plate at that moment and caught Eric watching her. Meeting his eyes, she smiled shyly at him.

Grinning, he winked at her. Remembering their encounter in the kitchen earlier, as he'd 'helped' with dinner, Sookie blushed.

She pretty much had just finished giving Eric a verbatim play-by-play of her conversation with Bill. Worried over the matter, Sookie had turned away from Eric, resuming chopping vegetables at the counter. Suddenly, she could sense him behind her. Her skin tingled and she felt every molecule of her body stand at attention. She stopped breathing. Then she felt his warm, strong arms encircle her waist and his lips graze her collarbone.

"Ah," was all she could get out. Laying down the knife, she turned around and met his waiting, hungry lips with her own. Deeper and deeper, she literally forgot she had been in the middle of making dinner.

Finally they came up for air. Sookie was the first one to speak.

"I'm sorry. This is all more trouble than you had signed on for."

"It's also far more worthwhile. It's like that old quote. Anything worth having is worth fighting for."

"Yes, but when you offered to drive Hoyt and Hunter home last week, I'm sure you didn't imagine all this."

Eric smiled.

"You're right. I could not have imagined 'all this' in a million years. I could not have imagined being this happy, either."

Gazing at him, she giggled. "Okay, as long as you realize what you're getting yourself into. I've probably got more baggage than most of the women you've dated."

"Yes, and I enjoy all your baggage." Eric leaned in, his forehead nuzzling hers. "They're a lot of fun. They play well with my baggage."

"What?" Sookie leaned away from him. "You calling my family baggage?" Sookie playfully slapped Eric.

"Oh," Eric made a mock horror face, "that's not what we were talking about?"

"I was referring to Bill and his current bout of insanity, you ass."

"We'll be rid of him shortly."

"I hope so."

"We will be," Eric leaned in for another kiss. "Try not to worry. I'll talk to my lawyer tomorrow and between us, we should be able to figure something out. Did you invite Bill to come with us to visit the set?"

"No!" Sookie replied quickly. "Did you want me to?" Sookie mumbled this into Eric's chest. "I want to have fun tomorrow. You, me, and the kids. I had to deal with his insanity all day today. I'll be needing a straightjacket if I don't get a break. "

Sookie was drawn from her sweet recollections by the sound of cars pulling into the driveway. Glancing out the glass doors, she saw Pam's Mercedes followed by Maxine in the Cabrio. A few minutes later, they heard the sound of the front door opening and shopping bags being deposited on the floor. In seconds, Pam had flown into the dining room, Maxine close on her heels.

Pam, showing more emotion than any of the Stackhouses had seen her demonstrate to date, was animatedly waving her cell phone in the air.

"Northman, you want to explain why I'm getting calls from the _National Intruder _asking for a comment on your new 'manlove'?"

Everyone turned, speechless, to stare first at Pam, then at Eric. Eric winced. The Stackhouses were catching flies. Maxine's mouth silently formed an 'O'.

Bill smiled, apparently jubilant.

"Really, Eric? I've been a fag-hag all this time and I'm the last to know?" Pam glared at Eric.

Sookie, gradually getting over her shock, was finally able to formulate a thought.

_Pam sure knows how to make an entrance_. _That was one helluva a showstopper._

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**AN: Thanks for reading. When you think SVM and ESN, I'm sure Disney doesn't come to mind for many. Thanks for the reviews. I love hearing from readers, especially first-timers! It's so much fun to relive the story through someone else's eyes. **

**Thank you!**


	62. A Gay Old Time Was Had By All

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**IMPORTANT MESSAGE:**

**THERE IS A MUCH MORE FUN TABLOID VERSION OF THIS 'CHAPTER' AVAILABLE FROM A LINK ON MY PROFILE: SEE**

**Chapter 62: A Gay Old Time Was Had By All**

**HOWEVER IF YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO VIEW THAT, READ THIS ONE. BUT I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU READ THAT ONE. IT HAS HOT ASKARS PHOTOS. SERIOUSLY. **

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******AN: Last time, I implore you to check out the link on my Fanfic profile instead of reading this version.**

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**Gay Old Time in Louisiana, Part 1 ****By Sara Weiss and Tom Lattesta**

In perhaps one of the strangest news stories heard lately, Hollywood heartthrob Eric Northman was involved in a domestic violence situation in a small town located outside of Shreveport.

Northman, 33, is in Shreveport filming HBO's vampire-dramedy remake of comedy classic "I Love Lucy," entitled "Over My Dead Body."

Although police were not called to the scene, witnesses report it was a verbal disagreement that quickly escalated into a chaotic scene of physical violence, culminating in gunshots.

Eric Northman, staying at the home of a 'special friend,' by the name of Jason Stackhouse, went with Stackhouse and a band of under-aged youngsters to visit acquaintances in this tiny crossroads outside of Bon Temps called Hotshot.

Several of the youths got into a fight. Punches were flying when Northman and his slight companion delicately sought to intervene in the mêlée.

Said one source, " those Stackhouses came looking for a fight. They were screaming and hollering. I shot my rifle to let them know that kind of behavior is not acceptable in Hotshot. Maybe people in Bon Temps like to have brawls but we're a peace-loving people. That's why I got my gun. We stick to our own kind 'cause of that."

The shots were fired by Hotshot resident, and Linda Evans lookalike, Crystal Norris Grissom Myers Norris. Norris agreed to an interview following the altercation.

"I've known Jason Stackhouse for years. He and me had a thing going. He also was with my daughter. I never knew him to be gay before-not that there's anything wrong with it, of course. Eric Northman is the hottest thing out there, I don't blame Jase for going gay, if that's what he did."

What family woman Norris did have a problem with was the Stackhouse guardians who let the kids reportedly run the roost.

"The girl was wearing a I Love Lesbians t-shirt. The boys-all nasty talk t-shirts. That's not right. Not that there's anything wrong with Lesbians. Or being gay."

When questioned further, Norris revealed more family secrets about Northman's "OUT"-rageous latest fling.

"They're orphans. Not a surprise, they're ill-mannered. They live strange. Have a commune at their house. A lot of people coming and going-if you know what I mean. They had some criminals living there too. Sam Merlotte-he owns the bar in Bon Temps- called America's Most Wanted and they got hauled away. Crazy blonde lady threatened me and my daughter. And they practice voodoo!"

Norris did say something positive came out of the visit.

"Jase and Eric gave me some real good advice on decorating my home. Usually you have to pay for good home décor advice or you got to spend a lot of money on magazines—like Good Housekeeping and Reader's Digest and what not. But they just came in and told me what I should do. I can't wait to make the changes. I think the purple and gold walls in my hallway are going to really highlight the deer heads."

While that might have been enough excitement for one day for most, the unflappable Northman and his companion took the kids to the I Spy shop in suburban Shreveport. Purchases included some interesting items-possibly for the kink lover in the family. Several surveillance cameras, and a sound activated recorder, also known as a bug, were among the purchases.

Northman, since his arrival in Tinsel Town, has largely been regarded as a ladies man, having escorted a bevy of starlets and models to various premieres and functions. In what is now being acknowledged as a telling sign, Northman has rarely been linked with the same galpal for more than a few months. The only constant female presence in the Louisiana lothario's life has been longtime friend/ publicist/manager Pam Ravenscroft.

Northman's camp was not available for comment. Which is entirely understandable. See related story below.

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Gay Old Time in Louisiana, Part 2 By Sara Weiss and Tom Lattesta**

Hollywood Manager to perhaps the most eclectic collection of 'hots' and 'nots,' ever, well-known "ladies woman' Pam Ravenscroft was spotted in a Monroe LA car dealership with an attractive, older unidentified redhead.

Ravenscroft, a former actress and BFF/manager to People's Sexiest Man Alive and Hollywood golden boy Eric Northman, and the mystery redhead seemed very friendly with one another, even bravely holding hands at one point.

While New Orleans is well-known for its 'anything goes' attitude, much of rural Louisiana is more reserved with what it regards as acceptable.

Said one witness, "I didn't realize they were [Lesbians] until ...after. Thought they were just a couple of friends. They were laughing and talking. Heard them joking about 'arm porn.' I thought I knew what they were talking about but now I'm not so sure. I'm a little grossed out to tell you the truth. And mighty curious, too."

Calls to Ravenscroft's cell phone went unanswered.

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**AN: Even if you read this one, it's not too late to check out the tabloid version. See the link from my FF profile or just go directly to my blogspot or to Livejournal. A Gay Old Time Was Had By All. **

**Thanks for the reviews and feedback! :D**


	63. THEY DID IT!

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, k****ids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?**

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**Chapter Sixty-Three: THEY DID IT!**

Sookie stood in the doorway of the living room. Bill sat a couple of yards away, reading his journal. She cleared her throat, prompting him to look up.

"Hello, darling. What have you got there?" Bill laid his journal down on his lap and fixed his eyes on her.

"Bill, were you always this dense? It's a shotgun. A Benalli, to be specific. Families in Massachusetts pass down the good china. Families in Louisiana pass down the good shotguns."

Sookie stood, holding the shotgun with one hand on the forearm and one on the grip behind the trigger. Entering the living room, Sookie kept the gun pointed at Bill. She positioned herself, at a 40-degree angle from him, with the gun aimed and ready to fire.

"Sookie, you're not going to shoot me," Bill smiled at her. She could see fear in his eyes. "Oh, no? Bill, really? I think I am," Sookie replied.

"Darling, you're not going to shoot me. That would show very low breeding. I did think you better than that."

_Way to go, Bill. Fucking dumbass until the very end._

"Yeah? Well, Bill, I guess you were wrong. Sorry."

She moved the gun snugly into her shoulder. She lifted the safety, and pointing at Bill, she abruptly pulled the trigger.

Buzz Buzz Buzz The sound of the alarm clock startled Sookie awake.

_Dammit! That was the best dream ever_, she thought.

Burrowing under the sheet, she felt something warm behind her.

_Oh! Right! That was the best dream ever._

Sookie rolled over. "Hey," she smiled.

"Hey," Eric leaned in for a kiss.

Sookie was only too happy to comply. She wanted to reaffirm that it actually happened.

She and Eric had actually made love the night before. It was unintended (Surprise!) but not regrettable. Not in the least.

After a bit, Eric pulled away. He propped his head up with his hand, studying her face. "Sookie," Eric sought her eyes, "are you okay with what happened last night?"

Sookie stared at him. Her face was serious as she studied him. _Huh, he looks worried. Should I let him off the hook?_

"Absolutely okay," she cracked a grin. "More than okay. I hope you don't feel like I took advantage of you. What with your being all upset over your bad publicity?" She teased him, smiling.

Eric laughed. "Uh, no. I think I can handle it. I'm a big boy."

"So I noticed." She smiled back.

Eric barked out in laughter.

Sookie just continued to drink him in with her eyes. _God, he looks beautiful with bed head_, she thought.

"You know, now that you mention it, I really am quite upset by the bad publicity," Eric gave her puppy dog eyes. "Another kiss?"

Sookie laughed. "Now, who's taking advantage?"

Eric shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. She felt his warm, hard body cover hers.

As he captured her lips for another kiss, he never broke their eye contact.

Sookie had noticed that the night before. That kind of eye contact left no doubts as to Eric's desire. It made sex more intense. Unbelievably, it made it hotter.

It made it...amazing.

When Eric finally pulled away, Sookie realized her heart was pounding furiously. She needed a few moments to catch her breath before she could speak.

"You see? What I won't do for my houseguests." Sookie joked. "Ultimate in Southern hospitality."

Eric returned to his position. His head propped up on his hand, he stared down at her.

"I hope I'm more than a houseguest by now, lover."

She returned his gaze. One of her hands was tracing along his jawline. "Hmm, yeah. Actually, I guess you're technically my roommate since you seem to live here now..."

"Roommate? I hope you're not suggesting similar activities might be warranted or appropriate for Pam and Maxine? Although, I can attest to the fact Pam would definitely appreciate it."

Sookie giggled. "No, not for them. You're my special-friend roommate..."

Sookie's words trailed off as Eric disappeared under the sheets. She was just about to ask him what he was doing when she felt him and the question no longer needed to be asked. But she realized another question did beg to be asked.

"Ah, Eric..." He popped his head up. "Yes, lover?"

"Did you need to get up early? You set the alarm."

Eric laughed. "Yes, so I did. Your point?"

Sookie, suddenly, ridiculously, felt embarrassed. Here, she slept with him. Her life was suddenly closely yoked with his. On some levels, she felt she knew him very very well. On the other hand, she had no idea what was so urgent he set his alarm this early. Her face flushed and hot, she finished her thought.

"Didn't you have to get up for something important? The alarm? You're supposed to call your attorney and report to the set. Remember?"

"Oh, yes. I remember," he continued to look at her, enjoying the way the blush spread down to her neck. Watching her, he seemed to lose his focus.

Sookie tried to bring him back. Although, apparently, she could easily him watch her for an indecent amount of time. _Focus, Stackhouse_, she told herself. "Well?"

"What makes you think you're not the important 'something' I needed to awaken early for?"

Sookie's eyes widened. She leaned in and kissed Eric, biting his lower lip slightly as she pulled away. Pausing inches from him, she leaned in, nuzzling their foreheads.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then, Mr. Northman. I know you have a busy day ahead of you — I hear your —" Sookie stumbled here and then retrieved the most obvious word, the most appropriate word, it sounded strange yet thrilling on her lips, "_lover _is visiting you on your set with her sister and brothers and they'll all expect to be entertained."

Eric, grinning, held her gaze. "Your point?"

"Well, I don't want to keep you from your important early morning tasks." She smiled and giggled. "Besides your fag-hag manager may be too busy 'working the phones' this morning to prepare breakfast so your lover may get to make her second family meal in a row."

"Uh-huh," Eric, finally moving his head away from hers, was now swirling his tongue over her all-too- sensitive nipple. He stopped to look at her. Her breath caught at the intensity of his look. He looked like he wanted to devour her. "I'll get back on task then."

With that Eric disappeared under the sheets once more.

An hour later, Sookie was back in her clothes — her day-old clothes. Eric still lay naked on his bed. Sookie standing over him, found herself looking at his body. No, staring. No, she was studying him like an algebra textbook.

She caught herself ogling and forced herself to look up. Of course, Eric had been observing her every move. His very amused eyes danced as he took her in.

"And you don't 'eyefuck.'" He laughed.

"Ah, well. I guess I do," her face reddened. "Maybe. Sometimes."

She leaned down for a final goodbye kiss. She'd see him soon enough at breakfast. Breaking their kiss, she made her way to the door. She unexpectedly stopped and started to giggle. She turned around to face him.

"What?" Eric smiled curiously at her.

"Well, I know this is the south and all and we have a reputation to uphold but," laughing harder, Sookie couldn't speak for a moment, "personally I've never done the walk of shame from one end of the house to the other."

Eric burst out laughing too. "You concerned about encountering anyone?"

Finally quieted, she looked at him, pondering the thought. "No, not really. None of my family would bat an eye. Besides, they'd all be pleased as punch. Pam would be happy to have something to tease us both about and Maxine would get a thrill out of being ahead of the curve on house gossip."

"Bill?" Eric arose from the bed, wrapping himself in the bed sheet. He made his way over to where she stood, paused at the door, her hand on the knob.

"Bill...needs to get up to speed on reality. He also needs to go away."

To punctuate Sookie's words, Eric gave her a searing 'goodbye' kiss.

Sookie opened the door. Speak of the devil. Bill. Standing in the middle of the hallway. Standing and waiting.

_Listening? Ew, gross._

Eric opened his bedroom door more fully so Bill could get a better view of him standing there wearing nothing but his top sheet.

Sookie, for once, did not flush pink with embarrassment. Anger was the overriding emotion now whenever Bill was involved.

"Good morning, Bill." She said coldly.

"Sookie. I see you're up early."

_Conversational, _she thought_. The jackass is being conversational. _Sookie replied without a second thought. "Yeah, Eric set the alarm so we could add some more orgasms to the ole' orgasm jar —" Eric burst out laughing while Bill's lips tightened. "_You _know. Before we had to get up and see about casting your crazy ass out of the house today."

Eric, his arm still around Sookie, tightened his grasp and kissed her on the cheek. "You are an exciting source of amusement, lover."

"You, too," she smiled at him. "Now, Eric, you need to shower. Bill, I guess since you were hovering in the hallway outside Eric's room, you've taken to flat-out stalking us. Did you need something?"

"I was on my way to the living room." Bill started to stomp away. "Don't forget your cap," Eric called out after him.

Bill's Redington sunblocker cap lay on the floor of the hallway. Eric leaned over and grabbed it and without missing a beat, he tossed it in Bill's direction.

Bill, caught off-guard, surprised them all by catching the cap. He glared at Eric as he put the cap on his head.

Eric winked back and, with Sookie standing behind him, he sniffed the fingers on the hand he'd just used to toss Bill's hat. Then he kissed them, mouthing the word 'superb' to Bill.

Bill, watching Eric's fingerplay, frowned. As the full implications of Eric's sign language permeated his brain, his face took on a look of horror as his eyes traveled upward towards his cap.

Disgusted, Bill bent over and jerked his head back and forth, repeatedly. Like a headbanger, he did this, again and again, until the cap finally fell to the floor. He stepped on it as he stalked away.

Sookie watched Bill seemingly have an epileptic attack in the hallway and then stomp on and abandon his beloved cap.

"What the heck was that all about?"

Eric, grinning, walked over to retrieve the cap from the floor.

"You're asking me? He was your fiancé."

Eric held Bill's cap.

"Don't blame me for his lunacy or I'll have to hold you responsible for Pam." Eric shrugged.

Sookie giggled and play swatted at Eric as he made his way back. Her hand got caught in his sheet and she accidentally messed up the folds. His draping fell slightly. He looked down at his sheet, half falling off.

"You just want me naked, Ms. Stackhouse. Admit it."

Something about Eric's teasing words, somehow along the way, became infused with a more serious tone.

Sookie, returning his look and about to make a flirty comeback, suddenly found herself, wordless and biting her lower lip.

"I... "

Without skipping a beat, the cap was back on the floor and Eric's hands were on either side of her head, clawing at her hair, pulling her into him. Her hands snaked around behind him, up his half sheet-clad back. Lips meeting, it was all Sookie could do to not lose her balance.

Locked in that hot embrace, they didn't hear anyone approach until all of a sudden someone stood beside them clearing her throat.

"Well, Northman, I see the rumors of you being a bone-smuggler appear to be greatly exaggerated."

"Hmm," Eric pulled his lips from Sookie's. He graced Pam with a lazy grin. "Good morning to you too, Pam."

"Mornin' Pam," Sookie smiled. She kept her arms around Eric's waist.

"Sookie," Pam nodded. "Sleep well? Or sleep at all for that matter?"

"Pam —" Eric growled.

"Eric, calm down. Sticks and stones, remember? In case you have forgotten, you'd better get reacquainted. Today's going to be an eye-opener. We seem," Pam glanced at Sookie, "to have a lot hanging in the balance."

"What do you mean?" Eric's tone was sharp. Sookie turned to look at him. "Aside from the article?"

"Yes, aside from the article. Russell got an advance copy. He," Pam paused, "well, let's just say Russell doesn't like it."

"How did he get an advance copy?" Eric seemed genuinely surprised. "I thought Lattesta said last night it wouldn't even be finished until Friday?"

"How would I know? Honestly, Eric you fixate on the oddest things sometimes. Russell has been around a long, long time. He is known to move mountains. He's a rainmaker. He has deep ties to many people. Somehow he has ties to _The National Intruder_." She shrugged.

"Is he sending it to us?"

"Yes, he's emailing it. I should have it shortly. "

Sookie had been actively observing Eric and Pam's exchange like a tennis match. Finally, her gaze settled on Eric. "Eric, I'm so sorry," she apologized. "This is all because of us."

"No, it's not," Eric met lowered his eyes to meet hers. "This happens all the time in my line of work. To be honest, I had a feeling something was up but I chose to ignore it."

"What do you mean?" Sookie frowned.

"Apparently," Pam supplied the answer, "they all heard cameras clicking yesterday in Trashville."

"Pam, I can speak," he threw his friend a 'Shut Up' look. "We didn't see any photographers. But," he shrugged, "obviously they were there."

"Obviously. Dammit, Eric. How many times must I tell you? If you hear the clicking, you take control of the situation. Unless you're lucky enough to be with a Lindsey Lohan, or a David Hasselhoff or even a Michael Lohan, you don't just let them snap photos."

Sookie threw a confused look at Pam. "Why is it okay if you're with those people?"

Pam just stared at Sookie. "Are you for real?" She finally asked.

Sookie just continued to look perplexed.

"Sookie, those people are crazy. Throw an arm around them. Hold their hand. Hold a bag under their lips. The press will beatify you for being a good friend and Hollywood good Samaritan."

"Oh!"

"Not Mel Gibson though."

"Oh. Okay." Sookie shrugged. What had they just been talking about? Eric got them back on track.

"Pam, they could've just as easily caught me with a telescopic lens, from yards away, and I wouldn't have heard a thing. Fact of the matter is," Eric turned from Pam to Sookie, "they have been gunning for me because I'm elusive."

Pam snorted. _Elusive? Maybe you were elusive, _she thought. "Well, you've taken care of that. You're not elusive any longer. Now, you're front and center and out and bent over and out and —"

"Enough, Pam. How does that help?"

"It doesn't but it's fun."

"Please," Eric gave Pam a serious 'Don't Go There' look.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"I am taking a shower. Please have the article ready for me to review when I am done. I'll meet you in the study. I was calling Cataliades today about the other matter. If there is something to be done legally on the article, we'll figure it out immediately."

"Yes, master," Pam replied sarcastically.

"Pam..." Eric said, his tone serious.

Sookie, listening closely, might've even described Eric's tone with Pam as slightly threatening. She stared at him, her gaze speculative, as she wondered suddenly at the sides of his personality still a mystery to her. She shook it off. Time to go start the day. "Hey, I'll see you two at breakfast." She smiled at them.

"What are we having?" Pam arched a brow as Sookie started to walk away.

"Oh, no, Pam. My turn. You'll find out at the table, the same as everyone else." Sookie smirked triumphantly and started down the hall to the staircase. She paused after making it only two steps and turned to speak once more to Pam.

"Pam?"

"Yes?"

"We need to do some grocery shopping today..."

"Are you requesting a consult?"

Sookie made a face and bit her lower lip. "Um, yeah. Guess so."

"Do you want me to come with?"

Sookie let out a snort of laughter. "Let's not get crazy, Pam. Besides, don't you think you're going to have your hands full with this," Sookie gestured with her hands, "mess?"

Pam let out a sound of frustration. "Oh, I suppose you're right. Dammit."

"Next time."

"Fine. I'll make a list and leave it in the kitchen."

"Thanks."

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**AN: That Bill. What a jackass. Prude. Like his fingers hadn't traveled _there _at some point. Anyway, as you can see, things are progressing. But that Douche Bag is still in the house. Dammit.**

**Don't forget to vote for Funniest Character on the poll on my profile. Thank you for reading!**


	64. The One With the Lawyer

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

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Chapter Sixty-Four: The One with the Lawyer**

Nearly a half hour later, Pam and Eric sat at the game table in the study. Pam had her laptop out and they were reading _The National Intruder _article.

"'Sought to intervene delicately'? They're kids, Pam. What were we supposed to do?" Eric was shaking his head.

"Eric, you know it's all in how they spin the story. With these photos, they could have just as easily said you were a scoutmaster out hiking with some young boys. With that black hair, Amelia could have been your Priscilla, Elvis. Be grateful they decided to pair you up with Jason. This could've been much, much worse."

Disgusted, Eric could not help but acknowledge the truth of Pam's words. Without warning Pam leaned away from her laptop and gave Eric a death glare.

"What?" Seriously, he was not in the mood for her petulant child routine.

"_'What?_'" she mimicked him. "Have you any idea how much work you have created for me?"

"Sorry, Pam. I wasn't exactly thinking of your workload when I was seeking to extract myself from Hotshot with my honor intact."

Pam growled. "Your fucking honor! Who cares about your honor? It's not like you were a virgin! Both of you! Stackhouse too! Why couldn't you have just fucked Dorothy and the Scarecrow? You put a little Viking helmet on your tall ship, lower your mast, and then you could set sail, and all would be forgot tomorrow. In and out and we'd be done with it. Of course, they could have gone to the press after the fact, but based on the looks of them, I don't think anyone would have believed their story." Pam shrugged.

"Pam, are you suggesting I kowtow and have sex with every person who comes along and thinks they have some kind of hold over me?"

"Well, you have to admit it's easier than dealing with the paparazzi."

"Pamela —"

"Well, you're the one who wanted to be a celebrity."

"I wanted to be an actor, Pam. You know that. What you're describing is far worse than bad press. You're just going to have to work the phones."

Suddenly Eric sucked in a breath. Pam, sidling up behind Eric, read over his shoulder.

"Stackhouse guardians let the kids run the roost. Nasty-talk t-shirts. Orphans. Ill-mannered. Live strange. Commune. America's Most Wanted. Crazy blond lady. And they practice voodoo."

Pam grinned. "Eric, the Barracuda might make an appearance today. What do you think?"

"Pam..."

"Come on, Eric. Lighten up. She's not going to blame you for this. Unless, of course, she just blames your insidious Hollywood lifestyle."

"Your lifestyle, too, Pam."

"Yes, but I'm not fucking Marcia Brady," Pam got a faraway look in her eye. "Although, I wouldn't mind it. She actually grew up to be quite a looker. Of course, she's probably close to Maxine's age, but still."

"Pam..."

"Eric," she looked at him. "I'm sure Sookie will understand it wasn't your fault."

"We need to make this go away. "

"Of course! That's why we're talking to Cataliades."

"We need to make the stuff on the Stackhouses go away."

"Well, it's kind of all hearsay from the White Trash Brigade. We should be able to get all that removed." Pam, remembering how she would now be forced to spend her day, couldn't drop the subject. "Eric, I hope you have learned your lesson. You have to be 'large and in-charge' when it comes to the press. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Pam, let it go. I'm serious. The stuff on the Stackhouses must go. We're talking about the custody of minors, here. I don't want this to cause Sookie one second of worry. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Eric. I'll do whatever Damon advises. And then some. Should we tell the Barracuda?"

"No, let's talk to Cataliades so we know what we're dealing with. Email him the article, so he can read it before we talk."

"Yes, Master." Pam gave Eric a sardonic smile.

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A short while later, the Hollywood Contingent found themselves in the study speaking with Cataliades via video conferencing.

"Eric, Pam. How are you both?"

Bald and corpulent, the time Cataliades did not spend at the gym was spent honing the edge of his razor sharp legal mind. That or devil-worshiping. Pam looked at the lawyer on the screen. She couldn't help but wonder about the devil-worshiping rumor every time she saw him. If he was a high priest of the Dark Lord, Pam had to concede Damon was one of the nicest people she knew in Hollywood.

"Pretty good, Damon. Though we have a couple of issues." Eric replied.

"Yes, I'm looking at the article right now," said the lawyer.

"What do you think?" asked Eric.

"I think you need to tell me what happened."

Eric sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Long story short, I pretended to be gay with a friend to get away from a couple of disgusting worthless vermin."

Cataliades made a face. "Vermin? Geez, Northman, tell me how you really feel," the lawyer commented. He paused momentarily as he read the article. "So, all this talk about you two being a couple and giving decor advice?"

"All true." Eric replied somberly.

"So purple and gold hallway to highlight deer heads?"

"Yes. We advised her that would do well to accentuate the heads."

"You sure you're not gay?"

Eric sighed. "Yes, Damon. I'm..." Eric hesitated and looked over at Pam, a searching look on his face, "_dating _his sister."

"Oh, well that's interesting," the lawyer replied. "So what does your girlfriend think of you cheating on her with her brother?"

"Damon, she knows we were pretending."

"Right. To escape the 'disgusting worthless vermin.' Pam, what do you think?

"I like Eric's term. Vermin. I think 'white trash' is appropriate as well," Pam nodded her head as she replied.

"No, I mean the story. The one on you. What do you think of the story on you?"

Pam leaned forward and read the article quickly. Pursed lips she considered it, then finally, "I like it."

"Yes, well, what about you redheaded friend? Will she like it?"

Pam shrugged. "They don't mention her by name. She will likely find it amusing."

"Did you two hold hands and act like a couple?"

"No. We were shopping and her tastes are slightly pedestrian. I took her hand a couple of times to direct her where to look."

"What about the 'manlove'? What does he think about all this?" Cataliades asked.

Eric and Pam had taken an opportunity to speak with Jason before he left for work. They invited him to be in on the call, but he demurred saying, "lawyers make me nervous and I usually say something I shouldn't." Pam had smirked at Jason's admission while Eric shrugged.

"He's entrusted the matter to us," Eric responded.

Damon nodded. "Who are the kids?"

Eric raised an eyebrow. "They are ...ah...more siblings."

"So, the brother-sister duo you're dating has more siblings?"

"Yes." Eric nodded.

"And they're kids?"

"Yes, they're kids," answered Eric.

"And they got into a fight with Linda Evans' kid?"

"Yes."

Pam, quiet for a full two minutes, could not remain silent at this. "Because the little bastard broke into Hunter's tree-house! The child deserved it. Amelia put a spell on the little animal but the Barracuda made her rescind it! And the worthless bitch sister ruined my pumps!"

Cataliades could only stare at Pam. Finally, he spoke. "Thank you, Pam," He turned to Eric. "What the hell is in the water in Louisiana?"

Eric shrugged. Thoughtful, he directed his next words to his lawyer. "Damon, the part about the children's guardian and the commune and the voodoo. We're talking about minors. I don't want anything bad to reflect on the...ah...guardian of the children."

"Let me guess. Your girlfriend is the guardian?"

"Yes."

"I will get in touch with the _Intruder_. That seems pretty much hearsay. I take it the crazy threatening blonde was Pam?"

Eric, a wry smile on his face, turned to meet Pam's eyes. Pam, Eric couldn't help but observe, looked proud. "Yes."

"Well, saying it's Pam at least clarifies that it's not your girlfriend who made threats. Maybe we have Pam comment on that?"

Eric winced. He would really rather this go away with no articles being published. "Yeah, Damon. But, really, I would much rather this be gone."

"Well, remember that the next time you go all 'Too Wong Foo,' Eric. I'll look into it today and get back to you. Now, let's go to curtain number 2."

Yes, curtain number 2. _How to explain_, Eric wondered. "We seem to have an interloper." Eric told the lawyer.

"An interloper? What are you talking about?"

"My..." Again Eric hesitated and his eyes sought Pam's for clarification.

"Your 'girlfriend,' Eric. Why do have such trouble saying it? If you can't just spit it out, then call her the Barracuda. Damon knows who we're talking about."

"Pam... " Eric threw Pam a lightly veiled angry look. "Please, be quiet on that." Eric turned back to his lawyer. "Her ex-fiancé will not accept that their relationship is finished. He has made himself a fixture at the house and refuses to leave."

"Strange. He doesn't have anywhere else he needs to be?" Cataliades looked contemplative.

"No, not at the moment apparently." Eric answered.

"Has he threatened anyone?"

"Physically? No," Eric told his lawyer. "But he's making vague comments that bad press would be unfortunate. You get the idea."

"Yeah, I do. You think he's the one who tipped off _The Intruder_?" Eric let out a breath. Interesting. Intriguing. It hadn't occurred to him. Which should indicated exactly how far off his game he is. "Pam?"

"Damon, it actually had occurred to me. How else would they know to find Eric in Trashville and me at the car dealer? It's not like they were here and followed us from the house."

"Yes," Eric was thoughtful.

"Well, what do you think this fiancé—"

"Ex-fiancé" Eric corrected.

"Ex-fiancé. What do you think this ex-fiancé wants?"

"We suspect he wants my and Pam's help in getting established in an acting career."

Cataliades burst out laughing. "Wow! Wants _Pam's_ help!" The lawyer, smiling, gestured at Pam who was returning his grin with a smirk of her own. "Obviously he doesn't know Pam very well."

They laughed.

Cataliades, after hearing more about the 'Bill' situation, advised them that if they could get evidence of him seeking to execute some kind of extortion, they could deliver it to the police. Alternatively, and better yet, they could hold it over Bill's head and force him to back his shit down. Either way, it would not be easy. Pam wanted to know if audio would suffice or if it needed to be video?

Cataliades pondered the question. "I think audio — so long as it's clearly him. Video would be preferable but there are limitations with that."

Eric quirked a brow and turned to look at Pam, who looked like she already understood the limitations. "What?" Eric asked. "Pam?"

Cataliades started,"You want to explain the limitations to Eric, Pam?"

Pam smirked. "I believe it is that he must not be visibly under duress, or something of that nature."

"Right. Man can't be tied up or," Cataliades pointed a pudgy finger at Pam, "handcuffed or restrained in any way. Not even silk underwear to a bedpost. Understand?"

Eric and Pam exchanged a look. Eric spoke first. "Yes, Damon. Understood."

"Good. Well, Eric, you've always been one of my most quiet clients. I'll certainly earn my keep today. I'll be in touch after I've spoken to the folks at the tabloid. You around?"

"On set."

"Pam?"

"I'll be seeing a man about a confession," replied Pam.

"Well, vaya con Dios," Damon joked.

Eric jerked his head back to Pam. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Don't worry, Eric. I'm just going to try to get him to open up a little bit."

Pam gave one of her fake, deadly smiles. Eric shivered. The lawyer intervened at that point.

"I don't want to know more than I need to. Just make sure — whatever devices you set up — you have — whose house is it? The girlfriend?"

"Yes," Eric confirmed after a moment's hesitation.

"Make sure you have her cooperation and permission. I see in the article you seem to have conveniently purchased a whole slew of surveillance equipment."

Eric grunted a confirmation.

"This is all most interesting. Please let me know if there's anything further. Regarding the article, I'll send an email most likely unless I feel it's urgent and a call is warranted. On the other matter, no correspondence."

"Okay. Thank you Damon."

"Thank you. Pam? Good luck."

Pam smiled. Genuine one. "Thank you, Damon."

They ended the call and Eric turned to face Pam. "What are you thinking?"

"Eric, you know me better than that. Do you really want to know?"

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Guess not. Can you do it without damaging anything?"

"Yes, I believe so. I've got Maxine helping me, if I need it."

**

* * *

**

Forty-five minutes later, the extended family sat around the dining room table. This time around they were missing Tara — who still hadn't come home — and Jason who had left earlier to work on the road crew.

_Aside from those two, the gang's all here. _Sookie looked around at everyone.

She caught Eric's eye. He smiled at her but she could tell it didn't quite meet his eyes. He was definitely not pleased about the call to Cataliades. Since the call had run so long and Sookie was busy getting breakfast together, they hadn't had a chance to talk yet.

Sookie knew one topic that was a safe one. The visit to the taping.

"Hey Ame, boys?"

All three heads swung around to their older sister.

"Eric says he's got to go down to Shreveport today. They're not doing much filming but there's some stuff going on. He invited us to come down and watch.

"Awesome!" This from Hunter.

"Thanks, Eric." This from Hoyt.

"Cool. Anyone famous gonna be there?" This from Amelia.

Eric got an odd look on his face at Amelia's question, but quickly brushed it off.

Pam looked proudly at Amelia. _She doesn't even realize the dig she just laid into Eric. That's my girl. _Catching herself, Pam interjected quickly. "How nice. Who is going, Sookie?"

Sookie, a little surprised at Pam's candid — and highly suspicious — interest, threw a puzzled glance her way. _Hm, what the heck is that about? _She thought.

"Just me and the kids. Jase is working today. Tar's on her own. Think she was scheduling a job interview." Sookie glanced at Maxine, frowning a bit. "Maxine, of course you're invited too. I was just thinking the vampire makeup and special effects would be right up the kids' alley."

Sookie saw Maxine throw a questioning look at Pam. _Seeking her permission?_

Sookie caught a nearly imperceptible shake of Pam's head. _Guess Maxine can't come?_

Maxine's next words confirmed Sookie's suspicions.

"Sookie, Eric, I would love to take you up on the delightful offer, but today's not the best day. I was going to run some errands with Pam's car." Maxine turned to Eric, an apologetic look on her face.

"No worries, Maxine," Eric smiled. "Plenty of opportunities in the future."

Frowning, Sookie turned to Eric. "I just realized we have a car issue. My Cabrio will be tight —"

"We'll take Pam's car," Eric responded without a second thought. "Maxine can use the Cabrio."

Sookie, a quizzical look on her face, glanced from Eric to Pam and then to Maxine. _Geez, he doesn't seem to have a problem deciding what everyone should do, does he? _Biting her lower lip, she refrained from making the observation right then. Instead, she sought to get the details finalized for the set visit.

"Fine. What time?"

"As soon as everyone is ready to go. I'd say eleven." Eric met her eyes.

"Okay." Sookie turned to her younger siblings. "You three are to be on your best behavior. You stay with me or Eric or wherever we tell you to stay. This part of Shreveport is 'The Place Where People Go To Die', remember? We stay close. No shenanigans. No wandering off. Or we are coming right back home. Am I making myself clear? Hoyt, do not forget to bring your cell. I'm sorry we still haven't gotten you two your iPhones yet. All the more reason for you to stay close. Remember the whistle. I'd be on good behavior if I were you three. Sleep-away school is still not out of the question. Get it?"

"Yes," this from Amelia.

"Sure, Sook," Hoyt replied.

"Yeah, got it," Hunter agreed.

Eric watched, riveted. For some reason, Barracuda Sookie really turned him on now. Of course, now he knew how far her demanding nature extended. She looked up and their eyes met. He saw a crimson blush creep along her cheeks.

He couldn't wait to get her alone in his trailer.

**

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading. Gotta love that Cataliades. I wonder what will happen when they get to the show taping? The kids couldn't possibly get themselves into more trouble, could they? We have some more characters coming into the mix too. **


	65. I Thought You'd Never Ask

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

**

* * *

Chapter Sixty-Five: I Thought You'd Never Ask**

The outing started slightly off-kilter when Eric and Sookie got into a debate on who would drive Pam's Mercedes.

"Eric, I know these roads more than you do. It'll just be better if I drive," she pointed out.

"But it's Pam's car and I am responsible for its safekeeping," he responded.

What Eric left unsaid, but which was very much swirling in his mind, was the fact that _technically _it was his money that had paid for the car in the first place. He and Pam were so tight, a proprietary attitude was ingrained in him over anything that belonged to her. He knew it reeked of arrogance to feel that way, but he brushed it off as he was fairly certain Pam felt the same way about his belongings.

The couple, at an impasse, stood next to the open driver side door staring at one another.

For her part, though she _knew_ she was being ridiculous, Sookie felt like sticking to her guns. She knew she was testing Eric. She wanted to see how deep he'd dig his heels in over something as minor as who would drive. She was rather surprised that he wasn't backing down. But he wasn't; he was being just as stubborn as she.

Eric, for his part, just wanted to get out of there. He didn't understand why Sookie was making an issue out of who would drive. Fine, he was not familiar with the roads but he could navigate easily enough when given instructions. Besides Pam's car had GPS.

The kids, meanwhile, sat silently in the back observing. Finally, Amelia, frustrated, called out to the front:

"You know something? I should drive! I'm the only one who's actually driven the Mercedes! I drove it all the way from the Interstate, too!"

Frowning, Sookie leaned down to peer at her sister through the open car window. "Amelia, that's not funny. You'd be better off not reminding me about that."

"I'll be fifteen soon and then I'll get my permit!"

"You'll be fifteen over a year from now and even with a permit, you'd need a car and I don't see us having extra money to throw towards getting you a car."

Straightening, Sookie met Eric's eyes and she realized, bemused, that letting Amelia drive might at least get them past this deadlock. Frustrated, Sookie realized she didn't want to get into an argument and she certainly didn't want to get into an argument in front of the kids.

But she certainly wasn't backing down.

Salvation came from the least likely of sources: Pam.

Pam had trailed behind them out to the car, intending to grab a few bags from the trunk. Glancing around, she quickly picked up on the fact that the kids were sitting docilely in the back while Eric and Sookie stood outside the car, apparently having a standoff over who would drive.

_Dumbasses_, thought Pam as she rolled her eyes. Without missing a beat, she laid down the law. "Of course, since we're swapping cars, I assume you're driving, Sookie?"

Sookie's eyes widened. Trying not to show her surprise, she smiled at Pam. "Yes, of course, Pam." With Pam's blessing, Sookie settled herself into the driver's seat. Shutting the door, she proceeded to put up the windows and turn on the air conditioning.

Eric, leaning against the side of the car with his arms folded, his expression inscrutable, stared at Pam.

Drawing in close to him, Pam hissed a whispered warning to him. "For God's sake, Eric. Grow up. The road to 'Happily Ever After' doesn't include pull-offs for fighting over who's driving."

Startled, Eric continued to stare at Pam.

"It's called compromise, Northman. I think it's about time you learned what it is. Especially with the Barracuda. Not a shrinking violet. Your high-handed act is not going to fly with her."

Eric gazed forward. Thoughtfully, he pondered Pam's words. Finally he let out a breath. "You're right."

"Yes. I know," she smirked.

That bump in the road behind them, the drive into Shreveport was uneventful. The kids flitted among several car games. As everyone's patience was worn by the Unwelcome Guest, they decided against playing Douche Bag Alphabet.

Sookie and Eric seemed to recover from their near-fight. So much so that by the time Sookie turned on to the streets surrounding the Shreveport Silvercup Studios, Eric's hand was resting comfortably on her leg and the two were periodically exchanging hungry looks.

Seemingly forgetting that they had, in fact, plotted and schemed deliberately for days to get Eric and Sookie together, now that they were together, the Teacup Stackhouses couldn't help but realize it was kind of gross to watch. Observing from the back, they took turns rolling their eyes.

* * *

After parking the car, the Stackhouse party made their way to the studio. Eric was oblivious, but Sookie noticed a few people do double-takes at their group entrance. Finally, someone stopped them.

"Hey Eric! Where have you been hiding?" A tall — _very tall_ — and attractive — _very attractive_- woman stepped forward to greet them. Dark eyes, she wore her wavy dark hair midway down her back.

"Hi Claudine. I decided to take advantage of the downtime and spend it with friends." Eric answered her glibly.

"Oh, I see." The woman smiled brightly at Sookie and the kids. "Hello, Eric's friends. I'm Claudine Crane. I work with Eric. We're also friends. Any friends of Eric are friends of mine. We're a highly covetous bunch, which we overcome by sharing everything." Claudine laughed easily and Eric smiled in response.

Sookie had been silently observing Claudine, appraising her and trying to figure out if she had cause for jealously. Truthfully, she hadn't picked up on anything amiss. Claudine, although model-gorgeous, had a sweet smile.

Eric, in the meantime, had started to introduce the kids. "Claudine, this is Amelia, Hunter, and Hoyt."

"Ah, hi Amelia, Hunter, and Hoyt. Nice to meet you all," she said and then turned to Sookie. "They all look like you — you're a beautiful family — but I know you're not the mom."

Sookie smiled. How nice to have someone say that for a change. Usually strangers assumed they were all hers, an assumption that pissed her off endlessly, seeing how it presumed the veracity of yet another Southern stereotype. The teen mom.

"You're right. We're siblings. I'm the oldest. I'm Sookie," she held out her hand and smiled. "Sookie Stackhouse."

Sookie thought Claudine's eyes widened slightly in recognition at her name. Claudine's next words confirmed her suspicion.

"You have another sibling? Jason? Eric? The former Navy man who joined us for dinner last week — wasn't he Jason Stackhouse?"

Startled momentarily, Eric looked at Claudine. "Claudine, yes. You're absolutely right." Eric turned to Sookie. "Lover," Claudine silently noted Eric's term of endearment, "you remember. Jason joined us for dinner Friday."

Sookie could barely recall yesterday, much less last Friday. "Yes, of course." Sookie nodded, smiling at Claudine, who was now gazing thoughtfully at Eric.

"Eric, I thought we all met Jason that night for the first time?" Claudine asked.

"Yes, yes. I was friends with other relatives of his," Eric turned and winked at the kids, who grinned back. "But we didn't know it at the time. Funny coincidence."

"Oh!" Claudine refocused her attention on Sookie. "So, are you all from Louisiana?"

"We are. The boys and I just moved home after living in Texas for the past year, while Ame was down at school in New Orleans."

"Oh, how wonderful for you! You must all be excited to be home!"

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say, it's true what they say: There's really no place like home."

"How wonderful to have such strong family ties." Claudine glanced at the kids. "A little known fact about me is I'm actually from Louisiana, too."

"Oh? Really? Where are you from?"

"I grew up mostly in Monroe but spent a lot of time in New Orleans."

"Oh, Monroe?" Sookie squealed excitedly. Eric's head spun around in surprise, prompting the kids to snicker. Apparently, he hadn't realized Sookie squealed like other females. "Wow! So you kind of came home too! Do you have family here still?"

"My father," Claudine paused looking at Sookie, "is in New Orleans. My brother, Claude, is in the biz, too. He lives out in LA with me."

"Claudine, that is too funny. I was just at the mall in Monroe yesterday. I wonder if we know any of the same folks..."

"Maybe, maybe." Claudine met Eric's eye and read telltale signs of his growing impatience. She made a play of looking at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I'd best be on my way. Young Stackhouses," she glanced at the kids, "it was a pleasure meeting you. Sookie, I'd love to maybe get coffee or lunch sometime. I'm sure we do know some of the same folks and I'd enjoy getting updates on everyone." Claudine smiled brightly.

Sookie, a little taken aback by the woman's outgoing nature, returned her smile. "Oh, Claudine, I'd like that," she replied.

With that the little Stackhouse-Northman posse bade their goodbyes to Claudine, and continued on their way.

Eric's idea was to find Lafayette and have him watch the children. Then he hoped to bring Sookie back outside and give her a tour of his trailer. He wanted to, in particular, to point out the ceiling panels.

But where was Lafayette? Seeing Jennifer Catar, another of his co-stars, he decided to pose the question to her. "Hey, Jen," Eric called her.

"Eric. Where have you been hiding yourself?" Jen smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She cast a cursory glance at Sookie and the kids. "Seems like no one has seen you since Friday."

Sookie, on instinct, decided she did not like the woman. Jennifer had hazel eyes and straight light brown shoulder-length hair. She had a few inches on Sookie on height, but Sookie had a few more where it counted: natural bounty.

_If I had to describe her, I'd go with lean and mean_, Sookie thought. She focused on Eric's voice.

"Yes. Took advantage of the downtime to spend time with friends," Eric replied.

"Ah, that right?" For the first time the woman really looked at Sookie and the kids. Jennifer's next words were uttered with such and unmitigated level of condescension, Sookie was ready to punch her. "Oh, sweet. Leave it to you to _befriend the_ _natives_!"

As Eric proceeded to talk with the _bitch_, Sookie took note of two things. One: her right hand, unbidden, rolled into a fist. Two: Eric somehow caught on to this fact and had already grabbed said hand, opened it gently and proceeded to gently caress circles in her palm with his thumb. Stealing a glance at him, she caught him give her a ghost of a smile. She felt herself calm down. She went back to listening.

"I haven't seen Laffy yet today. No reason to think he's not here. But, he might not be. With the unscheduled downtime, I think everyone's kind of doing like you are. Taking advantage."

Okay. Those words could have been innocent enough, but somehow Sookie didn't like them coming from Ms. Catar.

"Thanks, Jen. I'll text him," Eric smiled at his co-star as he grabbed his phone. Finally, the nasty Ms. Catar graced them with one last cold, disingenuous smile and took her leave.

Hunter grumbled "bitch" under his breath while Amelia muttered something about "manifesting."

Eric, pulling out his cell, heard every word. "Couldn't have said it better myself, Hunt," he grinned, winking at Hunter. Dialing Lafayette, Eric wasn't surprised when it went straight to voicemail. His message was to the point: "It's Tuesday, almost noon. Call me." His text was just as simple. **Call me**. Eric's phone rang immediately after that.

Sookie could hear Lafayette's boisterous greeting from where she stood and she stifled a giggle.

"Bitch, where you been? Thought you got rolled by a pack of horny nutria," Lafayette laughed. "SheeNuts, too. You two went off to play and you left me with Crazy I and Crazy II. Uh-huh, hooka. Not fair."

Sookie decided right then that she liked Lafayette. It had been years since she'd thought of "Sheena, Queen of the Jungle," but she definitely approved of his nickname for Pam.

Eric laughed, recalling Hotshot, Laffy's assessment of being "rolled by a pack of horny nutria" was not far off. Sookie, watching Eric, noted the way his eyes crinkled with laugh lines. "Laf, I've been busy making friends —"

"Well, yo' friends is my friends. So when does they get to know how fabulous I is?"

"Right now. We're by Studio C. Come over and I'll introduce you."

"Fantastic!" Lafayette boomed his initial response before lowering his voice. "Russ know yo' here?"

"No, not yet. Why?"

"Fucker's nuttier than a fruitcake today," Lafayette told him. "Don' know why but that boy's practically foamin' at dah mout'. We steerin' clear of Gayzilla."

Under normal circumstances, Eric would have laughed heartily at his friend's description. Unfortunately, Eric figured he not only knew but was also the cause of Russell's bad mood.

Impatient, Lafayette decided to fish. "So, we's got some new friends?"

"Yes."

"And is they fo' me?"

"You remember your Navy buddy from dinner?"

"My Navy buddy?...Jason Stackhouse? Aw, hooka! You brought me Jason Stackhouse?"

"Not exactly. I've got most of his family over here."

Silence. Eric, grinning, kept himself from laughing. He was savoring the moment. Very few things left Laffy speechless.

"Come again?"

"I've got Jason Stackhouse's family here."

"Jason's family? You mean the control freak biotch sister —" Sookie's eyes widened at that.

"Laffy, Laffy..." Eric attempted to interrupt but didn't accomplish it quickly enough.

"..the biotch selling the house?"

"A misunderstanding. Yes, two of Jason's sisters and his two brothers."

"No...shit." Silence again. "I'll be right over."

"Thanks, Laffy."

* * *

By the time Lafayette joined the Stackhouse posse, the kids were busy watching the film crew taping shots of several characters flying. To film the scene, they had stunt doubles wearing harnesses "floating" high overhead.

While the boys were impressed, Amelia insisted it didn't look "real." Hunter replied to his sister, "Ame, how do you know what real flying looks like? If you're such a high-and-mighty witch, why don't you just make yourself fly then?" Amelia, annoyed, snorted an angry "harrumph." Hoyt, irritated at the two of them for causing a scene, told the two of them to "shut" their "pieholes."

The bickering kids were garnering looks from cast and crew alike. Eric missed the action as he had wandered off to speak with Pat Furnan about the script changes.

Sookie, aggravated, was left to play 'peacemaker.' "What the heck is wrong with you three? You've been home three days. You'd better cut this crap out right now or _I swear_ we're leaving!"

Into this scene, entered Lafayette. Spotting Eric speaking with Pat, Lafayette's eyes followed Eric's wandering gaze and he quickly settled on the gorgeous blond with the Southern accent yelling at three kids. Lafayette silently registered that everyone except 13 or 14 year old girl were blonde and they all seemed to share the same hair color, including Eric.

_More Swedes?_ he wondered. "Hey, bitty-bitches, hi," Lafayette greeted the kids and Sookie with a broad smile. "I hear I gots some new friends. Nice of you all to meet me. I is Lafayette Reynolds."

Sookie, smiling, was grateful for a distraction from the fighting kids. "Hi Lafayette," she nodded with a smile. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she extended her hand to Laffy. "This is my sister, Amelia," Amelia shook Laf's hand and echoed a polite "hello." "These are our brothers, Hoyt and Hunter. Boys, say hello." Sookie threw a "Right Now" glare at the two boys.

"Hi," said Hunter.

"Hey, nice to meet you," said Hoyt.

Lafayette looked at them, then over at Eric who was still deep in conversation with Pat. Eyes wide, Laffy was attempting to process. _Okay, haven't seen this bitch in four days and he seems to have found a family._

"So, Lafayette, are you an actor?" Sookie asked.

"No, no. I do promotion."

"Oh, interesting. My — our other — sister does marketing."

"There's more of you?"

"Um, well, there's Tara — she's the one who does marketing, she's a couple of years younger than me — and then there's Jason. I think you met Jason?" Sookie peered at Lafayette.

"Yeah, I met the Navy boy. How come you left him home?"

"He was working today."

"Oh," Lafayette nodded. "So how'd you all meet Eric?" Lafayette's mind was in overdrive, trying to put the pieces together.

Sookie furrowed her brow, considering. She and Eric hadn't talked about what they'd say. Frankly, she would not have even thought of explaining how they met as something that needed to be squared away in advance but then she'd never dated a Hollywood actor before. Considering the Hotshot problem, she recognized these matters needed to be considered and handled appropriately. She realized she had no choice but to hedge.

"Oh, you know. In Shreveport. A while back. It's a small place, when it comes down to it," she shrugged. _There_, Sookie thought. _That was so vaguely convoluted Amelia and Pam would've been proud. _Glancing at Lafayette, she saw the man was looking at her like she had two heads. _Hmm_, she thought, _maybe a good time for a topic change._

"So, how long have _you_ known Eric?" asked Sookie.

"I've known that bitch a long time. I went to UCLA with him and Miss Pamela."

"Oh! Wow!" Sookie was more than a little startled by this revelation. Here Bill was the only UCLA grad she'd known a week ago and now she seemed to be surrounded by them. She wondered if Lafayette knew Bill. Toying with the idea of asking Lafayette if he did, in fact, know Bill, she heard Eric let out a roar of laughter about twenty feet away. She glanced over at him, smiling. As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned his head toward her.

Lafayette just stood, silently observing. It was a silent, subtle spectacle but a spectacle nonetheless. Eric and his new lady-friend eye-fucking obliviously across a crowded room, while a television crew filmed a complicated special effects flying scene, and three pre-teens ran around throwing peanuts at one another.

As Lafayette stood there, silently contemplating the situation, finally a light bulb went off. "I'll be right back," he uttered to Sookie whose eyes were still glued to Eric. He made his way over to the kids. He figured the girl or the youngest would crack pretty easily.

"Ameeeliiiiaaa..." Lafayette called out to her in a singsong voice.

Amelia, having left her brothers to their peanut game, had finally lost her disdain over the flying special effects and was avidly watching the filming. Hearing Lafayette's call her, she immediately thought his tone was uber suspicious. Also, she didn't really feel like talking, but it was out of synch with her upbringing to be rude.

"Uh, yeah?" she said hesitantly. "Lafayette, right? You're a friend of Eric's, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I is." _One of his best friends and the bitch don't even tell me when he's seeing someone_. "So, how does yo family know Eric?"

Amelia turned back to watch the stuntmen fly overhead. She wasn't sure if Sookie and Eric wanted them to say anything. Troubled, she threw a look at Lafayette and decided to give him a Pammy response.

"Uh, I've known Pam longer than Eric. We met while I was still away at school. We became fast friends," Ame smiled, "and I met Eric after." _Whew! There! Did it and no lies!_

Laf just looked at Amelia and sighed. No doubt about the two girls being related. He wondered if it were possible that the Stackhouses were somehow related to Pam? He nodded, smiling at her, and sauntered off to where Hunter now stood, watching the filming and eating peanuts.

"Hey, Hunt, my man," Laf greeted Hunter. "You enjoyin' yo'self?"

Hunter looked over at Laffy. He figured the guy wanted him to spill the beans about something. But he wouldn't be doing that without scoring ice cream at least.

At that moment, the arrival of Sookie and Eric on the scene thwarted Lafayette's spy mission. Not quite holding hands, Laf noticed Eric's hand holding securely onto Sookie's arm.

"Hi, guys," Sookie greeted her siblings.

"Hey," a lackluster salutation from Hoyt was all they got. Ame and Hunt were riveted to the stunt doubles flying in the air.

Eric, taking a quick assessment, thought the situation perfect. "Laffy, feel like getting closer to your angel's wings?"

Lafayette, looking at Eric, saw a gleam in his eye that usually meant one thing. Catching Eric and Sookie in another unguarded 'eyefuck', Laf figured he seemed to have a willing partner.

"Yeah, muthafucka? What do you need?"

"Watch the kids?" Eric met his eyes.

Lafayette sighed loudly, before pouting at Eric. "Does I have ta?"

Eric silently raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, okay. Does I needs ta feed them?"

Sookie answered. "Look at them." The three Teacup Stackhouses were staring oblivious-bordering-on-catatonic at the filming. Sookie shrugged apologetically. "You could toss them more peanuts if they start to look restless."

Lafayette grinned. _Funny girl_, he thought. Although it was obvious she was gorgeous, Laf knew looks alone would never rein in Eric Northman.

"Awright," Laffy shook his head. "I be yo' babysitter, while you go do whatever it is you do." He punctuated his words with a wolfish look. "You owe me."

Eric nodded, "thanks," while Sookie followed suit with a smile. The couple took off for Eric's trailer.

* * *

A half-hour and a couple of 'happy moments' later, Sookie and Eric found themselves relaxed and lounging on an over-sized futon in Eric's trailer.

"Hey," Sookie ran her finger along his face, "I knew I needed to ask you something."

"What?" Eric made a play to bite at her fingers when they got too close to his mouth.

"Laffy was asking questions about us and he had me absolutely stymied," she giggled.

"What did he ask?"

"'When did we meet?' 'How did we meet?' That kind of thing."

"What did you say?"

"Are you kidding?" Sookie leaned back to gaze at Eric. "I said 'we met a while back...yada yada yada...Shreveport's a small place...'you know. That kind of thing."

Eric erupted in laughter.

"What? What?" Sounding defensive, Sookie was play-hitting Eric to get him to stop laughing and answer her.

"Lover, we're going to have to train you in how to speak to the press. That's not an answer anyone will accept.

"Lafayette seemed to accept it."

"I can guarantee you he's quizzing the kids right now on 'How long we've known one another?' 'Where did we meet?' 'Do we share a room?'"

Sookie horrified, gasped. "No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Fuck!" Sookie bit her lip.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "I thought," he leered wolfishly at her, "you'd never ask."

* * *

**AN: OMG! Can you guess what's coming next? Did someone say lemons? No! No lemons! Full disclosure: This fic is 100% lemon-free. What's actually coming up next is Russell Edgington. Hold onto your hats. You can see clips on my Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog but in a nutshell, here are my inspirations for Russell:**

**(1) Denis O'Hare as Russell Edgington**

**(2) Rick James on Dave Chappelle **

**(3) Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles**

**(4) Deadwood's Al Swearingen**

**Last, but not least, he's dedicated to Alan Balls.**

**Thank you so much for reading! Reviews? Maybe just a couple. It'll encourage me to keep going. Or PM me! I've struggled with how to describe this fic. moxiemo finally clued me in (ha ha). It's like 'Clueless' was to 'Emma.' A remake/update. I think mash-ups are something different.**

**Thanks. :D**


	66. The One With Russell

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Six: The One With Russell**

As if on cue, as soon as Eric and Sookie's fun interlude came to an end, there was a knock on the trailer door. Closing in on three in the afternoon, the group had been at the Shreveport set for nearly three hours.

Sookie, surprised, turned to Eric. "You expecting someone?"

Eric grinned at her. "Sookie, this is my place of work. Technically, someone was supposed to be in here over an hour ago to start my hair and makeup. I sent the word out that I'd have anyone who bothered us fired immediately."

Sookie borrowed a move from Maxine as her mouth silently formed an "O."

"Just a minute!" Eric called out.

The couple assessed their clothing situation and did their best to right themselves. Finally, Eric walked over and opened the door.

"Hello, Selah," he greeted the woman. "Sookie, this is Selah Pumphrey. She's a makeup artist. Selah, this is Sookie Stackhouse."

Selah gave Sookie an automatic smile. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

Sookie observed that the woman was taller, thinner and much more put together than she was. But, then again, Sookie reasoned, the woman made a living being a makeup artist. It would not exactly be good for her career to let herself go and run around looking like a hag. Her dark brown hair was shaped into a severe bob. After a few seconds of silence, Sookie realized she hadn't responded to the woman's greeting.

"Oh, hi. Selah, is it? What a pretty name."

"Thank you. Yours is quite unusual. Is it short for something?"

"No. It's just Sookie." Eyes wide, Sookie took a breath.

"Just Sookie, hmm."

_Okay, not sure I like the sound of that. Guess we exhausted that conversation, _Sookie thought.

A short time later found Eric sitting with Selah busily applying his vampire makeup. Sookie sat watching for a while but then zoned out. She found her mind happily wandering back to the night before. Had it really just been last night? Last night...

Following Pam's dinnertime showstopper, the Hollywood Contingent had removed themselves to the study to discuss the day's events, call the reporter — Lattesta, Sookie thought his name was — and, as Pam put it, figure out a way to "butch" Eric back up. Jason, as he was intimately (Ha!) involved in the day's events was invited to join them.

Pam told Maxine and Sookie they may as well come in too and join the 'Fag Hag' party.

Despite her jokes, it was obvious Pam was not amused. If anything, Sookie thought Pam seemed more upset by the news than Eric. Maybe Eric was just better at masking his emotions.

"Dammit, Eric. Why can't you leave the sexual role-playing to me? 'La Cage Folles'? Really? You couldn't do William Hurt in 'Kiss of the Spiderwoman'? Something more ambiguously interesting? I cringe just thinking what scripts you'd select if I were not here to guide you."

Eric glowered at Pam. "Not the point, Pam."

"I disagree. You do stupid things when I'm not around," she glared back at him. "If I have to babysit you 24/7, we need to renegotiate my contract. You're more trouble than Hasselhoff and Danny Bonaduce combined."

Eric sighed at that, running his fingers through his hair. Sookie had wondered what it would be like to be his hair.

Eric, apparently anxious to change the subject, put a question to Pam. "Do we want to call Lattesta? Are you ready?"

"Eric, I was born ready." Pam, smirking, looked at Maxine.

The phone call to Lattesta was less than informative. The "reporter" — _spy is more like it_, Sookie thought — said that they had witnessed some activity first-hand at Hotshot. As for what occurred behind closed doors, they had a named witness who was more than willing to be quoted. They even had a corroborating witness. Lattesta asked again if either Eric or Pam wanted to comment and how long before Eric "outed" himself in Hollywood?

Sookie watched as Eric groaned at the question, a pained expression on his face. She felt horrible. She felt responsible. Speaking of responsibility, she realized there remained a dining room filled with plates and silverware and leftovers to be cleared away. Not to mention her younger siblings were somewhere in the house as was her loony ex-fiancé. She decided to make herself scarce and check on the kids and then take care of the dining room.

Finding the kids in Amelia's room, Sookie asked them to give her a play-by-play of what they recalled from their excursion to Hotshot. Hearing the kids talk, Sookie felt that whatever photographs may have been snapped couldn't have been that bad, possibly showing the kids fighting, but kids fight. It was part of what being a kid was about. She told her younger siblings that the reporters had witnesses. She asked them who they thought that might be.

Hunter answered first. "We didn't see anybody but Cal's bitchy mom and sister."

"Yeah, Sook," offered Amelia. "I heard a car, but never saw it park and never saw anyone else walk into a house."

"Well," Hoyt interjected, looking at Hunter and Amelia, "we all got distracted when Mel jumped out of the tree and you three went at it. We were all watching and Eric and Jase had to stop you. Maybe someone else was around then," Hoyt shrugged.

Amelia, biting her lower lip, nodded.

"Fuckin' lowlifes," Hunter muttered. "In-bred cretins. Nothing but trouble multiplied by disgusting. We should have zapped their balls with a stun-gun, make sure they stop their in-breeding."

Sookie, momentarily in shock, stared at her youngest brother. "Hunt, that's a terrible thing to say. Even, if they are responsible for this trouble, you don't want to cause someone that kind of lasting harm."

"Oh, yes, I do! Felipe's got a list of folks whose balls he wants to zap! He keeps it on the fridge!"

Nodding silently, Sookie bit her lower lip. Thank God she had the kids with her again. She wished she could hypnotize the boys into forgetting about their time spent with Felipe DeCastro.

"You guys should stay up here. Bill's in the living room and the adults are trying to figure out the Hotshot thing in the study."

Amelia, rolling her eyes, replied. "Don't effing worry. We will."

Getting up to leave, Sookie hesitated. She hadn't mentioned the visit to the film set yet, but figured she ought to confirm with Eric in case anything had changed.

Some time later, Sookie found herself sitting in the kitchen sipping a cup of herbal tea. As far as she knew the discussion in the study was still going on. Glancing at the clock on the stove, she saw it was past ten o'clock. Closing her eyes, she sighed. Hearing someone clear their throat, her eyes flew open. Seeing who it was, she smiled.

"Hi," she greeted Eric.

"Hello," he grinned back at her. But it seemed rather forced. Sookie could tell the evening's worries were weighing on his mind. Dare she ask? In a relationship, you take bad as well as good. Lord knows he was dealing with loony bird Bill.

"Uh, how did it go?"

Eric was leaning against the doorjamb, his long legs extended, crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed, too. His eyes took on a far-off look as he thought about it. Finally, he replied.

"All things considered, it's been a phenomenal week. If this is my karma for everything else," his gaze switched over to her, "I gladly and gratefully accept."

Sookie's eyes locked on Eric's. _Uh-oh_, Sookie thought. _I am in so much trouble_.

She felt her face blush and her pulse quicken. The fact that her breathing was becoming slightly erratic was not lost on Eric, who, watching her like a predator stalking its prey, smiled in anticipation of an inevitable win. A win that, Sookie knew, was closely looming. Sookie wondered just how close it, in fact, was.

"Would you - ah - like a cup of tea?"

"No." If Eric's eyes had hands of their own, Sookie was certain she would've been sprawled out naked on the kitchen table at that point. "I do not wish for a cup of _tea_, lover."

This man would be the death of her. Some day, somehow. She wondered if he knew. His delivery on the word "tea" alone set her girl parts aflutter. How did he do that? "You sure?" To her ears, her words sounded like a breathless squeak.

"Yes," he nodded. "I'm sure." He walked into the kitchen and stood in front of where she sat. Sookie looked up, up, up at him. He grinned. Not forced this time. "I have seen nearly every inch of this house." He chuckled. "Performing laundry and my housecleaning duties."

Sookie, staring at him, gulped and nodded wordlessly.

"One room I don't believe I have seen is yours." With this comment Eric was a bevy of activity. He effortlessly turned Sookie's chair away from the table and crouched in front of her so that their eyes were level. "Will you show me your room, Sookie?"

Yikes. Sookie stared into his eyes. She was incapable of pulling away. Eric leaned into her, nuzzling his forehead against her cheek. His traveling lips made their way to the spot behind her ear — Ah! — then lower to her neck. Eyes closed, she let out a moan. Before she knew what she was saying, she babbled out barely coherent words that Eric was only too happy to decipher.

"No, no. Twin. Yours. Big."

Eric pulled her up at that point. Not wanting to give her an opportunity to change her mind, he picked her up, bridal style, and charged out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room without a second thought.

Sookie's mind, however, was filled with second thoughts. She felt a pang of concern that one of the kids might see but they were still safely settled in Amelia's room and they encountered no one else as they made their way. Once they were by Eric's room, Sookie thought she heard a door click in the distance but it was far-off. It could have been Pam or Maxine. Or Bill. At that point, she was beyond caring.

Suddenly, Sookie was jarred from her musings. Once more she was sitting in Eric's trailer. She saw that the makeup artist was no longer in there with them.

"Where did you go off to, lover?"

Sookie, smiling, decided to have a little fun. "Are you offering me a penny for my thoughts?"

"Pretty sure I can come up with something better than that," he smiled.

"Yeah, you probably could."

Eric got a serious look on his face. He hoped she wasn't wasting energy worrying about the barnacle Bill. "So? Where did you wander off to?"

Meeting his eyes, Sookie blushed a deep pink.

_Oh_, Eric thought.

"Um, you were there," she said quietly.

"So I was. So I," he was up out of his seat and on her in a flash, "shall be again."

Placing a hand on either side of her head, Eric brought his lips down to meet hers. Slowly. Deliciously. Sookie, remembering where they were, pulled on the brakes.

"Hey, the make-up artist—what was her name? Selah? Is gonna be back soon. Won't she be annoyed that you've messed up what she's done so far?"

Eric trailed his lips along her neck. He paused at her pulse point. She felt his breath on her shoulder. Then she felt light-headed.

_Be strong_, she told herself. _Eric's kisses shall not function as Get Out of Jail Free card. Eric's kisses shall not function as Get Out of Jail Free card_.

Suddenly Eric's phone rang. He looked down. Uh-oh. Russ. "Hi, Russell," Eric winked at Sookie. Worried, she responded with a half-smile. "Okay, be right there." Clicking his phone shut, Eric grabbed Sookie's hand, leading her out of the trailer.

"What about the makeup artist?"

"We'll explain on the way out. Russ trumps all else."

"Ah. The Big Kahuna, huh?"

Eric smiled. "Yes. The biggest. But best not to say it to his face. Come on, lover. Let's go see what Russell wants. We'll pass Lafayette and the kids and let them know where we'll be."

* * *

A short while later, Eric and Sookie were back in the studio building. Sitting across from Russell, they waited for the man to say something. Anything.

Russell, Sookie observed, was about 50 and, in a word, dapper. His brown hair was clipped trim and neat. His outfit was simple yet stylish. He had a slightly Southern twang. She would have pegged him for being a Texan. But it faded in and out. It occurred to her that it might be an affect.

Eric had introduced Sookie by name. At which point, Russell asked if she were Eric's "domestic-partner-in-law" to which she replied, "not quite."

Eric clarified matters. "Sookie and I are together."

"Eric! Hush!"

"Sookie, Russ is in a position to help. But he needs the full story."

Russell glanced away from his laptop to give the couple his full attention. "Don't worry, Ms. Stackhouse. I don't require _all the nasty details_. I've seen Mr. Northman," he quirked an eyebrow. "I can just use _my imagination_!" Russell finished the last part of his thought with a flourish and laughed heartily and his own sexual innuendo.

Sookie cast a quick glance at Eric, whose face remained immobile. Turning her attention back to Russell, Sookie attempted to mask her shock at the man's outrageous lewdness.

Putting on eyeglasses, Russell had turned his attention back to the computer screen. And so Eric and Sookie sat waiting for him to speak. Finally he spoke.

"Well, you've really done it now."

Eric, as he'd been bracing himself for this moment for more than twelve hours, was ready. "Russ, aside from the fact that I had no idea—obviously —that they were following me all day," he started, "I did nothing wro-" he caught himself. "I did nothing gay. I'm not gay." He finished.

Russell's eyes returned to his laptop. He read aloud from the article: "Jase and Eric gave me some real good advice on decorating my home. Usually you have to pay for home décor advice or you got to spend a lot of money on magazines—like Good Housekeeping and Reader's Digest and what not. But they just came in and told me what I should do. I can't wait to make the changes."

Looking back up at Eric and Sookie, Russell pulled off his eyeglasses and shook his head. "Oh, this. This. Not gay? _NOT GAY?"_ Suddenly the man was screaming. Sookie found herself cringing. _"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S GAY! YOU! WHY DON'T YOU JUST THROW ON A PAIR OF PINK TIGHTS AND START PRANCING AROUND LIKE A KANSAS CITY FAGGOT?_"

Sookie's eyes widened.

Somehow Eric managed to maintain his unflappable cool. "Russ," Eric gave Russ a charismatic mega-watt smile. "Aren't you gay?"

"So?" The man's voice returned to calm. "No one's paying good money to watch me act on the premise that I'm straight." Russell paused and closed his eyes. Silently they sat, again waiting for him to speak. All of a sudden, Russell's eyes shot open and he stared at Eric. "You know what this is?" he finally asked.

"No," Eric replied. "What?"

"_It's FAAANTAAASTIC!_" Russ screamed. Sookie's grip on the arms of her chair tightened. Eric's boss was apparently an insane megalomaniac. Just then, Russell shifted gears again. "No, it's not. It's not fantastic. It's actually the," he paused and Sookie winced knowing what was coming, _"WORST FUCKING DISASTER TO HIT LOUISIANA SINCE KATRINA!"_

Horrified, Sookie was rendered momentarily speechless. Pissed off by the man's total lack of sensitivity, she started to say something. Eric saw her mouth move out of the corner of his eye and grabbed her hand. Making circles on her palm with his thumb, he met her eyes, willing her to be silent. She acknowledged his wish and turned her attention back to Russell Edgington.

"So we," Russ paused, thinking, "we have to figure out what we're going to do about our disaster."

"Well, I spoke to Damon —" Eric began.

"What did that cocksucker have to say?"

Surprised, Eric arched an eyebrow. He'd always been under the impression that there was a mutual admiration between Edgington and Cataliades. If there were discord, he'd have to watch out for the potential implications.

"Unfortunately, it's not like there were any witnesses and technically the woman is being truthful."

Russell stared at Eric. "Truthful, huh?" Glancing back at the screen he read again. "_I think the purple and gold walls in my hallway are going to really highlight the deer heads_." His eyes shot back to Eric. "So, you're not gay but you advised this woman to paint her hallway purple and gold? Do you take me for an idiot, Northman? You do, don't you? But you know something? I don't care. I don't care about your little _bromance_. Where's your ballsier half? Why isn't Pam here? She knows I can't talk to actors. You're all too...too..._emo_"

"Pam had other matters to tend to."

"Other matters? What '_other matters_' could be more important than saving your lovely dimpled hide?"

"Russ, it's not that bad" Eric shook his head. "Stop being such a melodramatic —"

"Queen?" Russell interrupted. "Is that what you were going to say, Northman?" Russell shook his head, like a teacher disappointed in his star pupil. "You fucking homophobe."

"I was going to say pain-in-the-ass," Eric, annoyed, no longer felt like pulling punches, "but if the tiara fits, wear it."

Russell shrugged. "What else did Damon say? Anything useful?"

Eric cast his eyes thoughtfully around the sparse yet stylishly decorated office. "Well, he thinks we can demand a retraction on Pam's story."

"Fucking brilliant. We can get a retraction on the story about the known Lesbian running around Louisiana being a Lesbian. He get his law degree out of crackerjack box? Or did it poof out of his Ouija board?" Russ turned again to squint at his laptop.

"Well, it's something," reasoned Eric.

_"IT IS NOTHING!_" Russ was back to shouting. "What about your outing?"

"We say it was a misunderstanding."

"You just admitted you " he looked at the screen, "and this Jason Stackhouse gave this woman Crystal decorating advice. How was it a fucking misunderstanding?"

"She and her daughter wanted us to fuck them. And we weren't about to do that."

"So you two fuck each other, instead? What the hell kind of retard school did your parents send you to in Sweden?" Russell stared at Eric, seemingly aghast. "I think your lederhosen must've been strapped too tight and it cut off the circulation to your brain."

"Russ, we don't wear lederhosen in Sweden."

"Northman, do you really think _I FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU BLOND YODELERS WEAR AS YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND THE HILLSIDES LOOKING FOR YOUR SHEEP?"_

Eric's face was stone. Sookie was in shock.

"Listen to me," Russell's voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I don't care if you're running around naked 24/7 with your butt dimples hanging out. You are not taking this seriously and I need you to take it seriously. Here's what I want you to do. You and Pam figure out something better. You offer Lattesta and his partner- in-crime, Weiss, something better. I don't care what. Open up about your years of abuse by your father."

Eric frowned, a puzzled look on his face. "I was never abused by my father."

"Right. Whatever. Guess that was a different Eric Northman." Russell rolled his eyes. Alternating his stare between Eric and Sookie, he continued. "You tell them the real story of your love life."

The couple responded simultaneously.

"Absolutely not," Sookie spat out heatedly.

"Fine," Eric replied with a shrug.

Eric's words sinking in, Sookie's eyes widened. "No! No! No, Eric!" She shook her head vigorously.

"Sookie, it would settle the matter. Quickly." Eric looked at Sookie. A slightly sad, regretful look on his face, he realized on this, she would not budge. Turning to Russ, he gave him his answer. "No, Russ. We are not doing that."

"Honestly, I don't care what the fuck you do, Northman. Keep Goldilocks here a secret. Who the fuck cares? I don't," Sookie threw a venomous look at the director. "You do something. Let them have unimpeded access. You explain the 'misunderstanding'. Give them something. Where the fuck are you living these days? I know you're not at the hotel suite I'm paying good money for. Are you at this Stackhouse commune?" He looked at Sookie. "You remind me slightly of Pam. Maybe you've got the balls in the relationship. I'll try to reason with you. Let them come to your commune and watch you all worship grass and sing kumbaya. Let Northman milk a cow. Hell, let him fuck a cow. By that I mean a bovine, not some disgusting ...female...skank. I don't care what you have to do, but just give them something else and get this article pulled!"

"How much time do we have?" asked Eric.

"You have today to convince them to pull the article." All of a sudden, jovial Russ was back. "Don't worry, Northman, I'm going to be on it too."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to look out for your best interests." Russ took a cigar out of his jacket pocket. "I'm going to think of how we can fix this. I'll provide you with my thoughts and advice throughout the day."

"Thoughts and advice or orders?"

"Well, that really all depends on how you look at it." Russ sniffed his cigar. "You know what they say."

"What?"

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"How is that applicable, Russ?"

"Well, even a cigar that's just a cigar can be the kindling that burns the city down."

Sookie's eyes grew wide._ What the fuck?_ she thought.

Eric, standing, turned away from Russell and rolled his eyes. Grabbing Sookie by the arm, he led her out of the office. "Fine, Russ," Eric called over his shoulder. "I'll get in touch with Lattesta. We'll let them shadow us. One day. Today. That's it."

_What the fuck more could possibly happen today?_ Eric thought as he and Sookie walked out of the office.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading. Have I told you lately how much I love Hunter? Well, I love Hunter. "****Nothing but trouble multiplied by disgusting." In case you missed it, the character of Russell is dedicated to Alan Ball. I love Russell too. He ought to figure prominently in any sequel I may do. Should Denis O'Hare be Russell? I never cast that role.**

* * *

**CONTEST ANNOUNCEMENT**:

**So you know they're actually letting me judge a contest, right? Yep. See below. **

**What contest?: ****The Indie Fic Contest. **

**What's the premise?: The contest is looking for totally original stories using the Southern Vampire Mysteries/TrueBlood characters; any pairing, any rating as long as the vamps are vamps, the humans are humans and the supes are supes. ****Original Character pairings are acceptable too.**

**Who can participate?: ****Everyone. Go for it. Beta's recommended. **

**More Info?:**** See IndieFicContest as a Favorite Author on my profile. **

**Why should I enter?: Why not? It's open to anyone. We're looking for interesting. We're looking for dynamic. We're looking for humor. We're looking for dark. Whatever. BUT IT MUST BE ORIGINAL. There are rules and they will be adhered to. **


	67. When Godric Met Amelia

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**_***IMPORTANT NOTE:***_**

**_According to Google Translate, the word for ice cream in Danish is "is." I know it may not seem important, but it is. Trust me._**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Sixty-Seven: When Godric Met Amelia**

After Eric and Sookie's departure, Lafayette was left wondering what the heck he was doing watching a bunch of kids. Not usually one handpicked to babysit young'ins, Lafayette found himself at a loss. As he stood watching the filming he also tried to keep an eye on the kids. The filming kept them busy for a while — a good thing — but he knew it would be wrapping up soon and then he'd have to figure out something to do with them. The studio had some outdoor photo shoots scheduled. They had made the arrangements with the City of Shreveport to close off several streets to traffic weeks ago — well actually Franklin Mott Associates had done the negotiations with the city — but it was a _pain in da butt _to reschedule. So they were determined to film what they could outside and then shoot whatever extra outdoor scenes they needed once the scripts were ready. Maybe he'd bring the kids outside to watch.

Finally, Lafayette heard the director call out "It's a wrap." Lafayette turned away from the set and looked over to where the Stackhouse kids had been standing. "Had" being the operative word. They were not there now. _Damn! _thought Lafayette. "Ain't that a B," he muttered.

Glancing around, he figured he'd ask his colleagues if they'd seen a couple of Swedish-looking blonde boys and a Goth-looking girl wander past.

_Oh, yeah_, he thought, _that won't make anyone suspicious of that bitch being gone the past few days. Serves that mutha-fucka right. Leavin' me alone with Russ and Crazy Jen._

Speak of the devil—_or she-devil_, Laffy corrected himself—there was Jennifer Catar, an enraged look on her face, tres usual.

_That the only bitch I know who's on her period 24/7_, he thought. _Better go find out if she knows where the bitty bitch Stackhouses is..._

**

* * *

**

As the oldest of the three, Amelia usually put herself in charge of her brothers. Hearing everyone around them talk about the filming that was going on right outside the building, she decided to convince her brothers to follow the crowd outside. Hunter didn't require much convincing. Hoyt was more cautious.

"Ame, Sook and Eric wanted us to stay with Lafayette. Why do you always gotta make us do what you want?" Hoyt sounded plaintive. They'd only been home five days and Ame was already back to her bossy ways.

"Hoyt, we're old enough to take care of ourselves. Besides, everyone and their mother is out there. Sookie and Eric went outside, too. I saw them," she told him.

Hoyt was frustrated. He was kind of bored being in the studio building after however long they'd been there. But he felt bad ditching Lafayette.

"Aw, come on, Hoyt," Hunter wheedled. He was pretty fucking tired of being indoors. This big room had no windows. It was dark. It was loud. "You know Eric and Sook are probably in Eric's trailer. You know where that is. We can go out there, watch them take their photos and then go find Sook. I'm getting hungry, too. Those peanuts made me feel sick. I need some real food. Maybe we can get ice cream."

Amelia, looking at her brother, shook her head. _Kids_, she thought. Turning her attention back to Hoyt, she redoubled her efforts.

"So come on, Hoyt. What ya say?" Thinking about it, she offered her hole-in-one. "You know Hoyt, you got your cell phone. If Sook or anyone needs to get a hold of us, all they gotta do is call. It's not really a big deal, you know."

Right. Hoyt couldn't fault Amelia's logic on that. He pulled out his iPhone. Full of juice. Full bars. Good to go. He shrugged.

"Fine. Okay. But if Sook finds out and blows her fuse, you explain. And you apologize to Lafayette if he gets pissed at us," Hoyt laid down his demands.

"Deal," Amelia rolled her eyes. "I'll explain to Sookie and I'll talk to Lafayette. But we're not gonna get in trouble. We're not going anywhere. Sookie can call us. Lafayette is over there watching the filming. I bet he's got to work anyway. He'll probably be relieved if he doesn't have to babysit. I'll tell that woman we met before—what was her name?"

"Which one?" Hunter asked. "The tall pretty one or the short bitch?"

"Um, I don't see the tall pretty one. I'm pretty sure her name is Claudine. I meant the bitchy one."

"I don't remember. I try not to remember bitches' names. Makes life easier."

Amelia, shaking her head, gave her brother a 'What the fuck?' look. _Must be from Felipe_, she thought_._

Hoyt piped in at that moment. "Her name was Jennifer Catar." Hoyt liked her light brown hair.

"Okay. Thanks Hoyt. She's over there. I'm going to go tell her. This way if she talks to Lafayette, she can tell him where we went. Okay?" Amelia posed this query primarily to Hoyt. Hunter didn't seem to care as he just wanted to go outside.

Hoyt and Hunter stayed behind while their sister went off to talk to Jennifer Catar. Observing the interaction Amelia had with Jennifer, it seemed to the boys that it did not go very well.

"Aw, fuck," muttered Hunter.

"Jesus H. Didn't Sook tell her no more spells?" Hoyt asked his brother. Hunter shrugged.

Finally Amelia made her way back to them in a hurry.

"C'mon, guys. Let's go," Amelia sailed past them towards the doorway that led to the hallway that led out to the street.

"Ame, what did you do?" Hoyt asked her.

"Yeah! You put a spell on the toad bitch, didn't ya?" Hunter wanted to know.

"Hold on," instructed Amelia. "When we're outside."

The three Teacup Stackhouses made their way down the wide-open hallway. Amelia wished they could go faster but there was actually a lot of people in front of them.

"Ame, what the fuck? Why're we running?" Hunter wanted to know. Slow jog was more precise but still.

"Yeah, Ame. What did you say to that lady? Is she chasing us?" Hoyt figured she'd done some crazy bitch thing like his sisters were known to do and the mean lady was coming after them.

"She insulted us and so I put a spell on her. Only it wasn't a real spell," said Amelia as she turned back to look. "Because I promised Sookie. It was a pretend spell. I thought I was making up words, but one of them might have actually been real. If anything she might get a case of diarrhea. But she got all freaked out. I think she's a little twisted." Amelia's voice got quiet at the end.

"Ya think?" Hunter exclaimed.

"Ame, can't you use your magic to figure out who's crazy before you put a spell on them?" Hoyt thought this was a reasonable request.

Amelia sighed. "Don't be such babies. C'mon. We're almost outside."

Two minutes later they were outside.

"Follow me," Amelia instructed her brothers.

The kids turned left upon exiting the building. They made their way away from the trailers, away from the streets where the filming was taking place.

"Hey, Ame," Hoyt was the first one to grasp this fact. Or, at least, he was the first one to care. "Shouldn't we be going the other way? They're filming on the other street."

Amelia charged ahead. She kept walking until she reached a quiet corner. She stopped. She turned around to face her brothers. "Okay. We can stop now."

"Ame, you gonna tell us what the heck you did?" Hoyt asked. Hunter, for once, remained silent.

"Well, I put the play spell on her. I thought I was making up words, but one of them might have actually been real. If anything she might get a case of diarrhea. But she freaked out and started to get all wacky like she was going to cry," Amelia shivered at the memory. "Anyway, let's just wait out here a bit and then go around the corner and back up to the trailers from the other street."

"Fine," Hoyt replied.

Hunter shrugged.

The three Stackhouse kids stood on the street corner waiting. Still early, there were hours of sunshine left to the day. Hunter sat himself down on a bench and started to chip away at the paint. Hoyt walked around in circles at the corner, playing with his iPhone.

Amelia stood there and looked around. Since it was "The Place Where People Go To Die," there wasn't anyone around. A few trees dotted the street. A couple of benches. Signs for the bus stops but no buses in sight. A lot of big empty buildings. A sign on a fence said "SWEPCO." Amelia squinted to try to read another sign.

_Um... 'EPA Brownfield Site'? What the heck is that? _She wondered. Deciding it sounded like something Maxine would know about, she decided she'd ask the older woman when they got home. Amelia turned away from the vacant, boarded up building.

It was then that she saw the boy.

Her breath caught.

He was beautiful. He had short dark hair, cut in a kind of Caesar style. His features were lovely. His skin was smooth and white. He had a sweet, gentle look on his face.

Amelia sighed and proceeded to stare at the boy.

Dressed in a light colored pajama-looking outfit, he also had on a pair of Jesus slippers. Amelia normally found Jesus slippers disgusting but somehow they seemed slightly less disgusting on the boy.

Amelia noted that he seemed aloof, standing by himself. Staring straight ahead, he looked so peaceful. Thoughtful. Wise.

_He's so beautiful I could cry_, Amelia thought.

Truthfully, Amelia was rather surprised by her reaction to the boy. She hadn't found herself attracted to too many boys lately. She seemed to notice girls more. Although she had been attending an all-girl school and wasn't allowed anywhere near boys, thanks to MOF's rigid dorm policies. So maybe the fact that Amelia noticed more girls than boys had something to do with that.

Regardless, Amelia thought the boy was lovely.

_She decided to approach him. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out her hair. She was happy she'd borrowed a pretty skirt from Tara. She glanced down at herself. Her shoes were a bit worn but at least they weren't sneakers. Thank God she hadn't worn the "I Love Lesbians" t-shirt again. _

_ Okay_, she thought. _Here goes nothing._

She made the distance quickly and found herself standing in front of the boy. He pulled his gaze from the building across the street. His peaceful expression unchanged, he looked at Amelia.

"Hi, my name is Amelia. Amelia Stackhouse." Amelia smiled at him.

The boy smiled back. It was a joy to see. He had a winsome smile. His skin was so pale it was like porcelain. He had big blue eyes. Amelia just stared at him. She wanted to touch him.

"My name is Godric," he said suddenly. "You may call me God."

_Oh, that's an unusual name_, Amelia thought.

"Uh, you can call me Ame. Or Amelia." She wasn't really sure what to say to but she figured she had to say something to keep the conversation going. "Either one is okay. My family calls me Ame usually. My sister, Sookie, calls me Amelia sometimes." She continued to stare at him.

Godric nodded at her, his features calm and tranquil. "How are you, my child?" As he spoke, he looked deeply into her eyes.

_'My child?' _thought Amelia. _What? Does he think I'm just a little kid? _"Uh, I'm okay," Amelia replied. Puzzling over his words, she bit down on her lower lip.

Just then someone came around the corner, obviously making their way to where Amelia stood with Godric. Watching the man approach, Amelia noticed for the first time that she could see filming equipment peeking out from behind the corner building. Apparently she and her brothers had inadvertently walked over to a second film set and hadn't realized it.

The person who joined them was a burly, fortyish African American man. According to a nametag clipped to his shirt, his name was 'Hondo'.

"God, my man, brought you the new script." Hondo handed Godric a small stack of papers, which Godric promptly folded up and put in a pocket. "And I gotta remind you again: Make sure you put the toilet seat down when you're done in the little boys' room in the trailer." Hondo gestured with his hands as though he were putting a toilet seat down. "It's co-ed and the ladies are complaining. Got it?"

Looking at the burly man, Godric smiled, nodding, and replied, "Yes, thank you, my child."

_Oh_, thought Ame. Her eyes widened as she turned to stare at Godric.

Hondo nodded a 'hello' to Amelia and then made his way back to the set.

_Why does God call everyone 'my child'_? wondered Amelia. To say that Amelia was a teensy bit confused by her new friend would have been a colossal understatement. Considering, she thought she might be able to figure out what was up with him if she got him to talk more.

"Um, what do you do here?"

His countenance calm, Godric stared at Amelia. She felt an unwelcome blush warm her cheeks. Finally he answered. "I am in labor. Yes."

Amelia's eyes widened. What the fuck? She didn't think that was right. She looked at his stomach. He was certainly pretty enough to be a girl, but she was damn sure he wasn't a girl, much less a pregnant girl. She decided to try a different question.

"Do you act? Are you an actor?"

Godric's eyes seemed to register those words with much more familiarity than her previous question. "Yes," he replied. "I act on "Over My Dead Body." I play 'Little Ricky.'"

Amelia's mind was racing. She couldn't figure out the mystery of this beautiful boy.

_So he's an actor. He understands some of what I'm saying. But he's so odd. Maybe if I ask him more questions, _she decided. "Where are you from?"

Godric responded with a blank look.

"Where are your parents?"

From the look on his face, it was obvious to Amelia that God did not understand what she was asking him. It was really stumping her.

Finally, recalling Godric's interaction with Hondo, Amelia got an idea. She would act it out. Deep in thought, she bit her lower lip, trying to figure out a way to act out her question. Finally, she thought she had it.

First, Amelia pointed to Godric. Then she made a motion with both her hands over her stomach indicating a swollen, pregnant belly. Then she made horrible faces like she was pushing a baby out of her vagina while holding her hands under her like she was catching a baby coming out of her vagina. Then she pretended to be holding a baby. She pointed at him. He was smiling broadly, his features far more animated than they had been. He seemed to get it.

"My makers are placed in Denmark," he told her.

Suddenly Amelia had an 'ah-ha!' moment of her own. "Your parents are in Denmark!" she gasped. "You're not retarded! You're just a foreigner!"

This mystery solved, Amelia felt much, much better. She hadn't been too comfortable with the idea of dating a retarded, eh, a 'mentally challenged' boy, but a foreigner was something else all together. They'd just sign him up for ESL classes—Eric must have taken ESL at some point since he was originally from Sweden — and they'd be golden.

Amelia smiled at Godric and he smiled back. Suddenly, she was very, very happy. She figured she'd bring him over to meet Hoyt and Hunt. She grabbed his arm, tugged on it a bit, and smiled encouragingly.

"COME...WITH...ME." She said loudly, enunciating each word clearly. Godric smiled at her again, allowing her to lead him towards the street corner where her two brothers now sat on the bench.

Glancing up, Hoyt and Hunter caught the sight of their sister trotting over, dragging with her some kid wearing pajamas and Jesus sandals. Exchanging a look, the two boys rolled their eyes at one another.

"Guess she's not a Lesbian today," Hunter observed.

"Uh-huh," agreed Hoyt.

"Hey, boys," Amelia greeted her brothers. "I want to introduce you to someone." Amelia looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"Sure, Ame. What's up?" Hoyt responded.

"Yeah. Who's the new kid?" Hunter replied.

Amelia went over to her brothers, Godric securely in tow, her hand circling his wrist.

"This," Amelia paused for effect, "is Godric. Or you can call him God."

The two boys looked an each other and then at their sister. Hoyt spoke first.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. That's his name."

"Aw," Hoyt shrugged. "Hi, God." Hoyt held his hand out. Godric took Hoyt's hand, nodding.

"Hey," Hunter gave the new kid a slight wave.

"Hello," Godric nodded, a serene smile fixed on his face.

"Where'd you find him, Ame?" Hoyt asked his sister.

"Oh, just up the street a bit."

"Hey, Ame." Hunter was staring at Godric's feet. "You know he's wearing Jesus sandals?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "YES!" She shuddered. "He's an actor on Eric's show. I'm hoping he's in costume."

"Uh, Ame?" Hoyt had a feeling he was about to approach shaky ground.

"What?"

"Why doesn't he talk? Is the kid retarded?"

"NO!" Amelia was outraged, despite the fact that she had had the same suspicion five minutes earlier. "He's a foreigner. He's from Denmark."

"Denmark, huh? They make cheese there, don't they?" Hunter asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Yeah…why do you ask?" Amelia's head quirked as she posed her question.

"Oh, I dunno," Hunter replied. "Maybe 'cause its four fucking o'clock and I'm starving to death?"

Amelia frowned at her brothers. Babies. Although if they were hungry, she did have some money. They could just find a place to get something to eat. Maybe they should text Sookie. It was odd that they hadn't heard from her, but whatev. Eric seems to be good at keeping her busy. Just then, they all heard it. The Stackhouse kids all looked at each other. The familiar unmistakable tune that could only mean one thing…

Ice cream truck!

Ice cream trucks didn't come into Bon Temps. It was strictly a city thing. Hoyt and Hunter had them in San Antonio. Amelia would only see them in New Orleans when she managed to get off the Poly Prep campus. She didn't even see them when she was at her friend Felicia's house. Since Felicia's parents were so rich, their house was surrounded by a lot of land. The road wasn't visible from the house. The yard was that big.

"C'mon! Let's go!" Hunter ran down the block to where the sounds of the Good Humor theme song could be heard.

Hoyt trailed close behind his younger brother and Amelia began to follow suit, only to realize that Godric wasn't following her.

Stopping, Amelia turned to Godric. "WE'RE GOING TO GET ICE CREAM," she screamed at him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the ice cream truck. Godric nodded and smiled pleasantly as Amelia led him around the corner.

Reunited with Hoyt and Hunter, the three Stackhouse kids were exchanged happy looks. They loved ice cream.

Godric, in the meantime, was thinking he rather liked Amelia. She was cute. A little bossy and maybe a bit loud, but cute.

After getting their ice cream cones, the three Stackhouse kids and their new friend Godric settled into a satiated contentment that can only be provided by ice cream. It was a hot spring afternoon in northern Louisiana and the cold, flavored scoops were a welcome treat.

Godric turned to Amelia and said, "_Is_ good."

"Yes," she agreed. "Is very good."

Godric nodded in agreement.

They found another sidewalk bench and sat. The street was a flurry of activity as the film crew had finally begun filming.

Amelia noticed that some of the strawberry sauce on Godric's cone dripped down the corner of his mouth. It looked a little like dried blood, Amelia decided, giggling. She promptly took a napkin, licked a piece of it and dabbed the area around Godric's mouth.

_There_, she thought, _that's better_. She grinned at him and he gently returned her smile.

Amelia was pleased. She felt like she was getting pretty good at understanding God. When they were walking over to get ice cream, Godric, as the oldest, felt responsible for them all. He let them know this by announcing he would be "the director-leader." Then, at one point, they were about to cross the street when God stopped them. Throwing an arm out to block the boys from stepping off the curb, he commended them to stay put with a sharp "Cease underlings." Nodding at the boys, he smiled. "Stand down, everyone."

Hoyt and Hunt had looked at him like he was nuts, but Ame put two and two together quickly.

"He was stopping us from crossing against the light," Amelia explained. "See?" She pointed as a car whizzed past them. Amelia's estimation of Godric just kept going higher.

As they hung out more, hearing how he spoke and the words he used, Amelia figured what English he did know was kind of messed up because he was learning 'Hollywood English' which wasn't exactly the same as 'normal people English.' Again, she told herself a good ESL class would do the trick.

Amelia smiled again. She was so effing happy.

As they sat eating their cones, Amelia kept trying to ask Godric questions about himself, but it was a frustrating exercise because she had to decipher his answers. It was a lot of trial and error.

"So, where do you live?" Recalling the words he used before, she asked again in a different way. "Or... uh...where do you place yourself?"

"I am placed at the Hilton," Godric replied easily and pointed.

Amelia nodded. "_Is_ it good there? You like it?"

Godric looked at his ice cream cone. He held it out to Amelia. Smiling, he offered it to her.

"No, no thank you," she smiled. "See? I have my own." She held up her own cone. "Good?" she asked again.

"Yes," he replied. "Is good," he nodded.

Not one to be bashful, Amelia's next question was very direct. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Given his blank stare, Godric obviously didn't know this concept. _Hmm_, she thought. _How do I explain_? Then it occurred to her that she could act it out. Like she did the parents thing.

Standing up and bringing Godric up with her, she handed him her ice cream cone. She turned her back to Godric and hugged herself, wrapping her arms so he could see her hands reaching behind her back. She made loud kissing sounds and continued to feel herself up, her hands traveling up and down her back. She couldn't see it but Godric was hopelessly grinning at her back. Hoyt and Hunter were laughing hysterically.

"Ame, liking boys and girls ain't enough for ya?" Hunter hooted.

"Yeah, Ame. Finally decided no one's good enough and you're just sticking with yourself?" Hoyt asked.

Done with her self-makeout session, Amelia turned back to face Godric and the boys. She leveled a cold glare at her two brothers. "You better remember what I am," she warned them, arching an eyebrow. Then, a sweet smile back on her face, she turned her attention back to Godric.

"Do you do that with a girl?" she asked.

Godric burst out laughing and replied, "No, I do not do that," he looked at her and, handing her back her ice cream cone, he took her free hand in his own, "with a girl...yet."

The way he looked at her made Amelia's insides feel all warm and tingly. She sighed. This was awesome.

* * *

_MEANWHILE, _Laffy had opened a goddam Pandora's box by asking Jen "Cuntar" if she'd seen the Stackhouse kids.

She glared at him. "Are you supposed to be watching those little monsters? That little," she hesitated and then realized the word was staring her in the face, "_witch _cast a spell on me!"

_Uh-oh_, thought Lafayette. _JC's obviously off her meds again. _"Jen, you know there's no such thing as witches." Laffy kind of felt bad for the woman. With the crazy, fucked up phobias running around her head she should not be working on a vampire show.

"Oh, no," Jen shook her head. "Laffy, she's a witch. She's the real deal. I know." She fixed her stare on him, eyes wide. Her next words came out in a hissed whisper. "_I recognized the spell_. _That's why I'm standing here by the ladies' room_."

Lafayette sighed. She wasn't a bad person, but nobody could deny that things would be a whole lot easier if JC would just stick to her meds.

"Well, I'll go find them so's she can," he paused, _fuck_, he thought, _I don' know witch-speak_, "cancel the spell she put on you. How's that soun'?"

Jennifer nodded. "Outside. They went outside."

Laffy nodded and made a beeline for the main hallway.

_That mutha-fuckin' Swedish biotch owes me_, he thought.

Lafayette, once outside, made the rounds. Enough people indicated they had in fact seen the Stackhouse kids for him to at least feel confident that they hadn't been snatched. They were just lost in the crowd, being kids.

Finally Hondo told him that they were sitting on a sidewalk bench up the street. Making his way to the corner, Laffy glanced up the street and saw that the Stackhouse kids were not only there, but they were with 'Little Ricky,' the new Danish actor, Godric.

_Kids_, he shrugged. Comfortable that they were safe, Laffy went back to watch the photo shoots. He texted Eric that he and the kids were outside watching the shoot.

**

* * *

**

After a bit, the kids decided they were still hungry. Debating the pros and cons of going to look for a Denny's or a McDonald's, they decided to just go get more ice cream.

So the Teacup Stackhouses and the Dane made their way back around the corner to the ice cream truck. A short while later, enjoying new cones, they began their return trek to the film set.

By this time, Amelia and Godric were holding hands. Godric had stopped them from crossing at a green light again and this time Amelia had strategically placed herself next to him. When his hand darted out to stop her from stepping off the curb, she merely moved her hand to take his. Godric smiled at her and seemed fine with holding her hand, so she figured it was okay.

At the midway point of their walk, Amelia realized Hoyt and Hunter were no longer behind them. Rolling her eyes, she muttered "cockblockers in training." She turned to Godric. "MY BROTHERS ARE NOT HERE," she shouted. "I MUST GET THEM."

Godric may not have understood Amelia's words but he definitely caught on to her tone and facial expressions. It also hadn't escaped his notice that Hoyt and Hunter were missing. He held her hand tighter, nodded his head, and gave her a reassuring smile.

"YOU WAIT HERE. I'LL BE RIGHT BACK." Amelia handed Godric her ice cream cone and retreated down the street toward the ice cream truck.

Lafayette, spotting Amelia and Godric down the street, started to make his way over to them. Stopped by coworkers several times, by the time he arrived at his destination, Godric stood alone holding two ice cream cones.

"Heya, God," Lafayette greeted the boy. "I know you had the Stackhouses wit' you. Where _is _they?" Godric, looking at Lafayette, held his ice cream cone up to the man. "Naw, I don't want any ice cream," Lafayette replied. "Where _is _the Stackhouses?" Again Godric brought his ice cream cone up to Lafayette's lips, trying to feed him.

"What the hell is wrong wit' you?" Growing impatient, Laffy pushed God's hand away. "I don't want yo' ice cream!"

Laffy hadn't had much dealings with the new actor, but he knew Godric was from Denmark and wasn't very familiar with English. This wasn't going to be easy.

Northman was going to owe him big time for this, Laffy decided.

**

* * *

**

Amelia wasted no time in retracing their steps up the street. Once back by the ice cream truck, it didn't take her long to spot her brothers. They were against the wall of a building. A bigger boy wearing butt-crack low-rise jeans with Fruit-of-the-Loom underwear peeking out, several layers of t-shirts, and a reverse-turned baseball cap was looming over them, threateningly.

_Uh-oh_, thought Amelia. _Somebody (Hunter!) must've said something to this kid. Time to do something._

"Hey, hey boys, " Amelia strolled over to her brothers. "What's going on?" She turned to the older boy and said in a slightly flirty voice, "Hi, I'm Amelia." She smiled at him. "My little brothers bothering you?"

"Ame!" Hunter screamed, "Don't fuckin' flirt with this wigger!" The boy turned to Hunter and grabbed the younger boy's t-shirt under his neck and twisted it.

"Hey, pissant," the kid growled, "how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling me a wigger or I'm gonna beat the shit outta you?"

Hunter's temper was flared but Hoyt was remarkably cool. He looked at the kid and tried to reason with him.

"Listen, kid, my brother didn't mean anything by it. It's just wiggers here are kind of... uh...I dunno...rare? We see them-uh- you guys - in San Antonio once in a while, but still not much. Hunt was merely saying it was weird seeing a wigger in Shreveport. That's all."

"Now, _you're _calling me a friggin' wigger? What the fuck's wrong with you idiots?"

Amelia bit her lower lip. She was kind of at a loss. The kid was obviously a wigger. For him to deny it was silly. He seemed to be suffering some kind of identity crisis. Self-denial, and all that.

"Aw'ight," the wigger was now punching a fist into his open palm, "you wanna play that way. We'll play that way."

Just as the kid was about to throw a punch at Hoyt, several things happened all at once.

First, Amelia screamed. _"No!"_

Then, something came barreling down the street and launched itself at the wigger. With a cry of "Cease underling!" Godric jumped in front of Hoyt, sparing the younger boy a serious right clip, but in so doing guaranteeing himself a clip to the chin. Godric hit the ground.

"Godric!" Amelia screamed and dropped to her knees. Gently she lifted up Godric's head and laid it down on her lap.

All of sudden Lafayette was there too. Shit. Godric got punched? _This babysitting thing is bullshit, _he thought as he tore after the wigger who was now running towards the film set.

The Stackhouse kids, slightly in shock, just looked at each other. Hoyt was the first one to speak. "I guess we should call Sook, huh?" The Teacups exchanged meaningful glances. Uh-oh. None of them wanted to do that.

* * *

**AN: Okay, you know the deal. Leave the envelope on the nightstand. Uh, I mean, reviews? Godric remains dedicated to my Amelia, A Chuisle A Chroi. **


	68. They're Already Fighting?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Eight: They're Already Fighting?**

His arm firmly around her waist, Eric led Sookie away from Russell's office. Although fuming, Sookie was doing her best to rein it in until they were out of earshot of Russell's office. She was biting so hard on her lower lip, she could almost taste blood. Finally a healthy distance from Russell's office, Sookie, twisting out of Eric's grip, whirled on him.

"Eric! No! What the hell did you do? I don't want to be featured in the National Intruder! _How dare you? _Who do you think you are? Of all the high-handed—"

Eric, replacing his arm around her waist, continued to guide her down the hallway. "Sookie, please." Eric sighed. "I know you're upset. I'm not happy about this either, but give me a minute. I'm trying to think." Eric gradually moved his hand up her back, gently massaging her in an effort to calm her.

But Sookie would have none of that. "Yeah?" she hissed. "_Well, I'm trying to make a fuckin' point_," she continued in a harsh, angry whisper. "I have a _nutso _ex-fiancé stationed at the house. The whole family's back _and then some_. I've got three kids to watch including one who thinks she's a witch—".

"Sookie, please." Eric's voice was distant as his mind continued to grapple with the matters now confronting them.

Unwilling to be silenced, Sookie went on. "_Oh, no_!" She replied, her tone louder. "_It's not nearly enough_. Then I got you, Jase, and Pam who can't seem to stop yourselves from _fuckin' around with the freaks of Hot_—"

Without missing a beat, Eric's hand was suddenly off Sookie's back. Wrapping his arm tightly around her, he pulled her close to him, clamping his hand over her mouth. A wry smile on his face, he whispered into her ear. "Sookie, would you mind being quiet for a minute? I need to think."

Outraged, Sookie wasted no time in grabbing his hand, pulling it into her mouth, and biting down hard on the inside of his palm.

"Ouch!" Eric gave a sharp cry and pulled his hand out of Sookie's mouth. Looking at her, he grinned. "My, what sharp teeth you have, lover." Eric turned away to smile pleasantly at Selah Pumphrey who was walking past. Selah nodded back, a glint in her eye. A snarled lip was the extent of the greeting Sookie could muster for Selah right then. Turning her attention back to Eric, Sookie sure as hell had an answer to his comment.

"Yeah? You'd best remember my sharp teeth the next time you want a bl—"

"All right, enough," he interrupted. "We're on the same side, remember?" Eric paused to smile at a cameraman. "Smile. We're drawing stares."

Sookie, her Crazy Sookie smile plastered on her face, was quick to reply. "Well, we wouldn't be fighting like this if you weren't such a high-handed pain-in-the-ass, always demanding your way!" With that, Sookie nodded pleasantly to a couple of crewmembers she'd met earlier.

"Come now, lover," Eric lowered his voice to a growl. "You enjoy many of my demands. And my ass."

Sookie felt a blush on her cheeks. Eric shot her a triumphant look.

"Eric! That's not the point," she whispered hotly. "I'm so damn mad at you," _smile, nod_, "right now, I'm looking forward to all this being behind us just so I can nail your ass for putting me in this position."

Eric lowered his lips to Sookie's ear. She shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on her face. "Darling, you can nail my ass anytime you like," he said charmingly. "If you're trying to think of something to punish me, you'll have to try again."

Turning to look up at him, Sookie shook her head. Exasperated, she felt a smile form on her lips. He truly was incredible. "You're incorrigible."

"You're the one who seems overly preoccupied with my, eh, bottom."

Sookie, rolling her eyes, shook her head. She would not even dignify that with a response.

"All things considered," Eric continued, "I suppose it is a good thing."

Annoyed that he was looking to deflect their conversation from the real issue by flirting with her, she redoubled her efforts to make her point clear.

"Eric! This doesn't change anything! I'm furious at you. We talked about this. Several times, as a matter of fact." Making eye contact, she arched an eyebrow. "Remember? The other night in the kitchen? Earlier in the day at the DuRones' party? Before the party? When you picked me up? I thought I was pretty clear. I told you I won't ever accept an alpha male taking over my life. Does that ring any bells? The only one in charge of me is me. I don't give up that kind of control, ever. Maybe I gave you the wrong impression by not being more upset over your Neanderthal routine." She paused. "I told you that kind of bullshit couldn't be a regular thing." She looked at him. "And here we are..." She let her words trail off.

Eric glanced mindlessly down the hallway from where they'd just come. He focused his eyes once more on Sookie.

"Listen. I realize it's my fault you're involved in this." Glancing down, he absently ran his fingers through his hair. "I want to make this right," he brought his eyes back up to hers. "Do you doubt that? Do you doubt that I want to do what's best for you?"

Sookie's gaze, steady, locked onto Eric's. Carefully considering her words, she remained silent for a few moments. At last, she spoke. "Eric, I know you're looking to do what's best for you." Her tone was low, contemplative. "I don't doubt that you'll rationalize that it's good for me too," she continued to meet his eyes. "But I reserve the right to make my own judgment calls."

Eric frowned. Deciding privacy was in order, he pulled her through an open doorway and shut the door. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, Sookie saw that they were in an empty studio. The only light in the room was cast from small, red security lights along the floors and over the entrance doors. Quiet, she turned to face Eric, watching him expectantly.

Eric returned her gaze, thoughtfully. He had, thus far, refrained from sharing with her the content of the tabloid article. He'd told himself it was because he hadn't wanted to worry her. While that was true, it wasn't the full truth. Yes, he didn't want her to worry. He figured she'd had enough to worry about, with Bill and his melodrama. The house. The kids.

The other part of the truth was that Eric wanted her to remain ignorant on the extent the press can interfere in the life of the Hollywood household a while longer. For them, this was the beginning—a magnificent beginning. He didn't want her spooked. Deliberating his choice of words carefully, finally he spoke.

"When I say, I am considering your best interests too, Sookie, I am telling you the truth." He met her eyes. "Having read the article, I can safely say I don't think you'd be pleased by it. In fact, I'm sure you'd prefer something else be published."

Sookie was stunned. She hadn't given much thought to what the article contained. She figured it just made all sorts of innuendos about Eric and Jason. What else could it say? His tone had her worried.

"Eric?" Her voice sounded uncertain. Eric cringed. He didn't like it when her voice took on that cadence. He certainly didn't want to be the cause of it. "What's going on? Please?"

Looking at her, he let out a silent breath. Resolved, he began to explain. "Your neighbor—the worthless Crystal—called into question the appropriateness of your household as a place for underage children."

"What? You're kidding!" Sookie gasped.

"No, sadly, I'm not." He let out a breath. "I wish I were."

The room was silent as Sookie digested this information and, thinking, attempted to interpret it. Finally, she cleared her throat and posed a question.

"So, this magazine article talks about us all by name and says I'm an unfit guardian?" She shook her head wondrously. "I don't even understand how that's legal?" She looked at Eric as she voiced this question, a sad expression on her face.

Eric reached out, lightly running his hand along her arm. He pleaded with his eyes that she not condemn him for this unfortunate reality and inwardly he rejoiced when she didn't pull away at his touch.

"Well, a few things," he started to explain. "First, your name is not in it. Only Jason's is. Second, I believe Crystal's rant is hearsay and I've got my lawyer working on it. We could get the writers to clean it up— Cataliades has his ways." Eric paused. Honesty she wants, honesty she shall have. "But, in this, Sookie, I must agree with Russell. He's a bit erratic at times, but he's quite shrewd. If we distract them with another story, we can get this one pulled. We drive what gets printed. And we build goodwill with them." He paused to look into her eyes. "It may be advantageous to us in the long run. If we use legal means to get it pulled, they may continue to pry based on the assumption smoke equals fire. If we win them over, it may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Eric observed dryly.

Sookie, puzzled, quirked a questioning eyebrow at Eric's final words. "Why would we need to have a beautiful friendship?"

Eric averted his gaze as he contemplated his response. "Well, for one thing, as a celebrity, I'm in this position of being a public figure. It can be a nuisance at times," he paused, meeting her eyes. "But it can also be used to my advantage."

If Eric thought his response would demystify the situation to Sookie, it was having the complete opposite effect. She shook her head, uncomprehending.

"What do you mean, Eric?"

"Sookie..." Eric let out a breath. "I actually have interests other than acting." He looked at her, pensively. "I have several charities I promote quite a bit. One of them—SOS Children's Villages— I'm looking into making a documentary about their work." Surprised, Sookie's eyes widened. Eric continued. "I enjoy acting, but I don't necessarily think that's all there is for me. I seriously consider going into politics one day." Now Sookie was catching flies. "So, when I say I would like to keep the press on my side...well, now you understand why."

Sookie, flabbergasted, sunk down to the floor. Sitting there, quietly, she just looked up at Eric, seeking out his eyes in the dimly lit room. Eric followed suit, sliding down against the wall until he, too, sat beside her on the floor, his long legs stretched out before him.

"Uh, wow," she said. She was still kind of speechless.

"Yeah," Eric snorted. "I guess there are a lot of pipe dreams in there."

"Maybe just a few." Sookie smiled at him.

"I didn't mention it before, because, let's face it, there was no reason to. I'm ...it's just long-term ideas, not anything definite and —"

"—and we don't know if we're a long-term idea," Sookie finished for him.

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Maybe not, but it needed saying."

Eric picked up her hand. Turning it over, he brought it to her lips and kissed the inside of her palm.

"I'd like us to be." Eric's voice was as soft as cashmere. Sookie felt it echo in her heartbeat. Her voice was husky when she spoke. It didn't sound like her.

"I'd like that too," she smiled.

Eric's face lit up with a smile so bright even the darkness of the room couldn't dim it. He leaned in to capture Sookie's lips with his own. She responded in kind, tilting her head, bringing her free hand up to grab his hair and pull him closer.

Pausing for a break, their foreheads rested in a nuzzle. Remembering something, Sookie bit her lower lip. "Uh, about before...I'm sorry I bit you."

Eric chuckled. "Lover, would you like to know a secret?"

Laughing, Sookie replied, "I don't know, Eric. Would I?"

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I enjoyed it."

Sookie pulled away from him, far enough to meet his gaze head-on. Bemused, it was her turn to giggle. "You are one sick puppy, Mr. Northman."

"Ditto, Ms. Stackhouse" Eric shrugged, grinning. "You were mere months from becoming Mrs. Angsty John Travolta," Sookie groaned while Eric continued to smirk. "I still find it hard to believe." Suddenly, Eric's tone changed from teasing to serious. "I do, you know. You and Bill. He is so utterly unworthy of you. Had I not fallen for you before meeting him, I fear I may have seduced you away from him purely on principle."

"What principle is that?" Sookie snorted. "The 'He's got something I want! It must be mine!' principle?"

"No, Sookie," Eric silenced her words and eradicated the thoughts from her head as he proceeded to nibble on her ear. "The principle that someone as unique as you should have everything. You should be given the moon and the stars."

As Eric continued to nibble her ear, Sookie gave a low moan. "Ah," Sookie attempted to focus —which, she reasoned, was not easy as a 6'4" Nordic god was making love to your ear in a way you'd never imagined.

Eric's kisses are not a Get Out of Jail Free card.

Eric's kisses are not a Get Out of Jail Free card.

Eric's kisses are not a Get Out of Jail Free card.

She tried to wrap her head around his words. Lofty words. Very lofty words. "You'll give me everything, Eric?" The question sounded strange. Of course, she wasn't with him to rack up material goods. Honestly, she wasn't sure what she wanted.

"Everything I have will be yours, lover." She shivered at his words. They oddly struck her as sounding like a vow. Yours. Mine. Ours. She had a thought. There was someone else who had a very proprietary stance when it came to Eric. Someone who'd been around a long time. Someone who'd continue to be around. How would she take this?

"What about Pam?" Sookie asked.

Eric had shifted his lips down to Sookie's neck. He halted his activities and pulled back from her for a moment to respond. Of course, he knew what Sookie meant. But it was a non-issue. Pam approved. Considering his words, he replied.

"Of course, you may have half of her as well. If you like."

Hearing Sookie giggle, Eric nearly let out a sigh of relief. _This lover of mine_, he thought, _will never be easy. But, oh so worth it_.

"Seriously, Eric. What about Pam?"

"Pam likes you. There isn't anything to be concerned about."

Eric helped Sookie to her feet and they started to make their way out of the darkened studio. Eric, hearing his cell phone buzz, paused at the door and grabbed it from his pocket. It was a text from Russell.

**R: I'm helping already. Lattesta and Weiss are out at photo shoot. Go find them and make nice. They know the deal.**

Eric sucked in a breath. Sookie, hearing it, was immediately on guard. "What? What is it?"

"It's Russell. He saved me the trouble of contacting the reporters. Apparently they're outside at the photo shoot. We," he lifted his eyes to look at her, "just need to go find them and 'make nice.'"

"Fuck!" Sookie muttered.

"No, lover, we really should go deal with the press. There'll be time for that later." Eric cracked a grin.

Sookie smiled at his attempt at humor. "You're happy I'm a pottymouth, aren't you?"

Eric laughed. "Well, it's refreshing not being the only one with a mind in the gutter," he replied.

"Arggh! Eric!" Feeling the frustration over everything and needing to vent, she met his gaze squarely. "_You are soooo much trouble!_"

"Well..." Focusing on her, his eyes lost their playful look and suddenly were serious. "I guess I'd better make sure I'm worth it then."

Eric grabbed her and gave her an A-1 kiss that she felt down to her toes. The kiss both grounded her and stole her away. His lips locked onto her lips, his tongue danced with her tongue. She felt his hands on her back, gliding down to her butt. He slid one hand under her pant waist. Delighting in the inappropriateness, Sookie allowed herself the brief respite and lost herself in it. After a rollercoaster of an afternoon, it was a wonderful reminder of just what this was all about.

But they needed to be somewhere else. It was difficult—very difficult—but after a few moments she succeeded in pushing him away.

"Ah, as much as I totally hate to break this up," _truer words never spoken_, she thought ruefully, "don't we have somewhere we need to be?"

"Yes, of course." Eric shifted into business mode. "You're right. Let's go and get this over with. I figure we spend some time with the reporters this afternoon. This evening. Maybe tomorrow we find something fun to do with the kids. Let them follow, but we'll do our best to ignore them and pretend they're not there."

Sookie smiled. A day out with Eric and the kids. Suddenly she had something fun to look forward to. "I like the way you think, Mr. Northman."

"Expediency, Ms, Stackhouse. None of us has forever. I look for opportunities to multitask when I can."

"Ah-ha," Sookie nodded. "So I learned from the piggyback trick."

Eric laughed. "Trick?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "You sprained your ankle— your lovely ankle." He leered at her. "What would you have had me do?"

Thinking back at them being stranded by the creek, with her unable to walk, Sookie had to admit Eric carrying her back from the woods did seem the most reasonable thing. Dammit. She hated not being right. "Fine," she huffed. She also did not like being handled. "Let's go find our _new friends_."

Eric took her hand and they made their way out to the hallway. Once out of the darkened studio, Sookie grimaced as the light hit her eyes.

Eric's phone buzzed a second time. Glancing at the screen, his eyebrow went up. Sookie knew it was the 'what's this?' quirk as opposed to the mischievous 'I'm flirting with you' quirk. Bemused, she wondered how many different eye quirks he had. Startled, she wondered how she already knew the playbook on his eye quirks after only a few days.

"What's up? More from Russell?"

"No. Not Russell. It's Lafayette."

"Lafayette? Something wrong?" Her voice took on a slightly alarmed tone. "Did something happen with the kids? Did they get themselves into trouble?"

Eric looked up, meeting her eyes. "He says is the kids got into a fight but they're okay."

"Damn. Can't let them out of my eyesight for a minute. Where are they?"

"Outside," Eric placed a hand on Sookie's shoulder to lead her out. "Come on. Let's find the kids before Lattesta and Weiss find us."

"Oh, yeah," Sookie nodded. "Yeah, we should do that." Remembering something that still needed to be addressed, Sookie paused. "Eric? "

"Yes, lover?"

"If you ever—_EVER_—cover my mouth with your hand again, prepare to lose the hand," she nodded. "Just sayin'."

"Fair enough," Eric grinned. "Let's go." Sookie nodded and the couple made their way down the hallway towards the building exit.

Eric replayed Lafayette's message in his mind. He had been honest with Sookie about the message from Laffy. He'd just omitted the part about the ambulance being called. Laffy had said the kids were okay. Eric just hoped Laffy hadn't chosen now as the time for him to lose his flare for drama and suddenly adopt a penchant for understatements.

Bracing himself, Eric followed Sookie outside.

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**AN: Yeah, TB references. A little replay with how I'd liked to have seen it...**

**Funniest Character Poll: Just to remind you there is a Funniest Character poll on my FF profile page! 36 people have voted so far. Don't forget to vote! It's good practice for elections. **

**Reviews: Okay, here's the deal: Do we think we can get this to 1,500? My OCD wants 1,500. If we just get it over and done with, I promise no more whoring in the ANs. C'mon! If 48 of you write "Good show" or "That's funny" or "You need help", then we're WINNING! - Look at this. Isn't the whoring _annoying_? But then I need to figure out how to discourage more reviews. Hmm...**

**Next Up: Pam and Bill. Sweet Jesus, bring napkins and a bib in case you plan on drinking something. **


	69. Favors from Pam

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

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**IMPORTANT MESSAGE:**

**During this chapter, you must go to my FF profile and click on a link. It is necessary to get the full effect. **

**The link is: ****CHAPTER 69: lovingvikingeric's Bill **

**My blog has several other links related to Bill and Bill's costume. They're amusing, but the above one is *_required_*. **

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**Chapter Sixty-Nine: Favors from Pam**

Once Eric and all the Stackhouses had gone for the day, only two honorary Stackhouses and one most unwanted douche bag were left at the farm. Pam and her 'second', Maxine, were trying to plot out the sequence of events necessary to get Bill where they wanted him, which was, of course, out of the house.

Bill, meanwhile, was safely ensconced in the living room. Deeply engrossed in an Environmental Economist journal, the man was oblivious to all else around him.

It was hoped that Pam's little ruse would result not only in Compton begging for mercy but also in Compton finally vacating the Stackhouse farm. Since Sookie had definitively broken up with the jackass the day before, his continued presence in the house was an unwelcome intrusion. Not to mention the fact that since Sookie was now with Eric, the douche bag's continued presence ranked high on the creepy meter.

_Besides_, Pam thought as she peered into the living room to check on him, _he's boring me_.

Needing to finalize the plan and prepare for its execution, the two women went upstairs to Pam's room. Maxine, helping Pam set up the camera, was wondering once more just how far Pam was willing to go with this scheme.

"Uh, Pam?" Maxine was hesitant. She hated feeling like she was prying into other people's business.

"Yes, Maxine?"

"I'm sure Sookie and Eric would understand if you don't go through with it. They're kind people."

Pam arched an eyebrow at Maxine. Eric may not be on America's Most Wanted but to describe the Viking as _kind_?

"My point is," Maxine continued doggedly, "I'm sure they wouldn't want you doing something...uh...intimate that you don't want to do."

Pam nodded at the woman's words. She obviously needed to fill Maxine in on the plan. "Maxine, do not worry. I assure you. My virtue, such as it is, will remain intact. I have actually changed the plan somewhat since we spoke yesterday."

Yesterday, the plan had been for Pam to –shudder—seduce the Douche Bag and capture him in a compromising position on film. While Pam had no clue what his bosses or contemporaries might be like— she imagined they were similarly-minded douche bags—she assumed they would be horrified at viewing a film of one of their own caught in a compromising position. That, however, was yesterday's plan. Today's plan was slightly different.

"Oh?" Maxine was curious. Since she'd been living at Camp Stackhouse, curious seemed to have become a perpetual way of life for Maxine. "How's the plan different today?"

Pam nodded. Thoughtfully, she began to explain.

"The plan is still to lure Bill in with a script. I will tell him I have a script I think would be perfect for him. The script is still a very bad pornographical story. But, this Hotshot incident has inspired my creative spark. I have," Pam's face practically purred with self-satisfaction, "tweaked the script so that it better meets our needs."

Seeing the look in Pam's eye, Maxine gave an involuntary shiver. Although Maxine was afraid to ask —indeed she was afraid to _know_ — she kind of felt like the adult charged with keeping an eye on Pam. Bracing herself, she asked.

"How did you change the script?"

"Our discussion yesterday of Bill's eunuch-like qualities stayed with me. I have tailored the script accordingly. I have a costume I'd like him to wear as well."

"A costume?" Maxine's internal 'O' meter was starting to pulsate in anticipation.

"Yes. It is not something I normally travel with but I was visiting a friend outside of New Orleans with very unique tastes."

"What kind of costume?" Maxine couldn't help but feel a little afraid.

"A pixie. Sprite. Peter Pan. Asexual," Pam said thoughtfully, "yet sexually deviant at the same time."

"Oh," replied Maxine followed by a silent 'O'.

"You are impressed, Maxine?" Pam was nodding appreciatively.

"I'm not sure 'impressed' is the right word, Pam." Horrified?

"Yes, I agree. It will be something to behold," Pam nodded contemplatively. "I think it suits him well." Pam's voice took on her business tone. "Anyway, I will feed him lines and tape him as he says them. At the end of the day, I should have such an inflammatory videoclip of him to hold over his head, he will be only too happy to leave."

Maxine's eyes were wide, as she spent a few moments digesting Pam's words. She could tell by Pam's smile that the woman was expecting further comments.

"Well, Pam, I hope you know what you're doing. I'll help if I can, but I really don't want to see the Muffin Man sans clothes. I'm not sure about him in a Peter Pan suit either, but whatever needs to be done to get him to leave, I'm more than happy to play my part."

"Thank you, Maxine," Pam nodded approvingly. Yes, she thought, Maxine was one of hers. "You are a good friend."

In the meantime, Bill continued to sit in the living room. Staring unseeing at several of his professional economist journals, Bill's mind was elsewhere.

It was obvious Sookie was forever lost to him now. Now, that she's had sex with Eric. Eric, who was, reputedly, hung like a stallion.

_That dick_, Bill thought.

Well, if Sookie had managed to score herself a Hollywood lifestyle, there was no way Bill would be skulking away quietly without trying to get in on it. The way he figured it, Eric Northman owed him. Twice. Once for stealing his dreams of an acting career. Once for stealing Sookie. Although truth be told, now that he had a better understanding of Sookie's family, he wasn't altogether certain that second act of thievery wasn't more an act of kindness.

Those Stackhouse children were the most incorrigible, foul-mouthed youngsters Bill had ever had the misfortune to meet. It was with great relief he recognized the fact that with his not marrying Sookie, he would never have to accommodate her younger siblings in his home, nor would he ever have to introduce them to his lovely mother.

Yes, he felt, ultimately marriage to Sookie came at too high a price. Lorena Ball Compton, he felt, would not be pleased with the Stackhouse addition to the extended family. Bill shuddered in horror as he tried to envision the Stackhouse children in his mother's lovely Nantucket home. They would surely destroy her lovely art. Her priceless collectibles. Her Faberge eggs. Her Swarovski crystals. Her authentic Native American wall art.

If there was one byword Lorena Compton had used in her child-rearing of Bill and his sister, Jessica, it was children should be seen and not heard. Bill had felt mildly insulted when she would say that to him— although not as badly as Jessica who finally declared their mother was "dead" to her and moved out to Chicago a number of years ago. He kept in sporadic touch with his sister, but was not overly friendly. He felt that the stance she had taken with their mother was needlessly cruel.

Yes, so his relationship with Sookie would have to be written off. But, there still lived an opportunity—for him to chase his dream. He knew—given the chance—he would flourish as an actor. He felt it deep within his soul.

It was into these ruminations Pam Ravenscroft walked. She smiled at Bill. Bill just stared at her, rather perplexed.

After their run-in the other morning—when she had spilled hot coffee on his hand—Bill had been under the impression that Pam didn't much care for him. Although here she was smiling graciously at him. Perhaps he had misjudged her. Perhaps her seeming dislike of him was more because she was a Lesbian and she hated all men. Except, of course, that scion she made her living off of. As for that, both of them made a very gracious living, indeed. It was one Bill very much aspired to. Also, he wished to share his talent with the masses. Those who did not know acting, would know acting once they bore witness to Bill Compton acting. Those who thought they knew acting would experience a paradigm shift of epic proportions once they had seen Bill Compton acting. A voice roused him from his imaginings.

"Bill, we should talk." Pam said. Bill kept his gaze on her. Trying to turn on the charm, his lips upturned slightly in a smile.

Watching, Pam thought he looked like he had gas. She wondered if perhaps the man had indulged in too many bran muffins.

Bill nodded his head, and made a 'go on' gesture with his hand. It was a very snobbish imperious motion that Pam knew well. It was one of her repertoire. It was the 'speak plebian and do not waste my time' move. Pam glared at him.

"As you may know, I manage Eric's acting career. By that I mean, I help guide his decisions of what films to accept. Other business decisions as well. I also devote some time to talent development. I scout for new talent. I figure Northman's only got a few good years left. His days as a leading man are numbered. Then he'll have to wait until his character actor phase sets in."

Bill was silently watching Pam. While interested in what she had to say, he was utterly confused as to why she chose to speak to him of these matters. Pam continued.

"I attended UCLA with Eric, Bill. I saw your try-out for Grease. I think, honestly, Eric was wrong not to cast you in the production. It was obvious to me that your considerable," Pam clenched her teeth to prevent herself from gagging, "presence was something else," _hmm, not exactly a lie_, she thought. "You just need the right vehicle to channel your talent into."

Yes! Bill's hand curled into a fist as he made a satisfied fist pump. "Ah, so what was it about my...ah...presence," Bill was smirking, Pam found herself wishing she had taken Maxine up on her offer of antacids, "that indicated the depth of my range?"

"Well," Pam trailed off. She was about ready to bite her tongue off. "I have heard better singers—" _William Hung, William 'Captain Kirk' Shatner, Elvis-post-Mortem come to mind_ "—but I have never, ever before encountered someone with all your unique qualities rolled into one." _Thank God_ she finished silently to herself.

Bill wore a smug look. Pam wanted to kill him.

"So, huh, Pam..." Bill's inflection took on an intentionally seductive air. He reached out and touched Pam's hand. Pam found herself staring at his hand like it was a tarantula crawling on her. "What do my 'unique qualities' inspire you to want to do?"

_Kill you. In a very painful manner using every whip, stick, and ball gag in my arsenal_. Pam smiled, remembering something. Maybe even the diarrhea spell Ame had taught her in the car.

"Well, I have an independent film I am helping a friend cast. I think you would be amazing in it. It's risqué. But utterly unique."

"Like me?" Bill nodded knowingly.

"Yes, Bill. Like you." She kept her face frozen.

"Ah," Bill let out a self-satisfied sigh. Pam tried to remember the words to the diarrhea spell.

"Why don't you tell me about the film? So I can determine whether or not I feel it is the appropriate vehicle for my acting career?"

Pam explained the made-up film summary using terms she thought he would find appealing. Throwing out key phrases, she offered him a vague compilation of every film stereotype to rear its ugly head over the past 20 years.

"man wronged comes back for revenge"

"he's become a success"

"girl he left behind, in the meantime, has become disillusioned with the man she chose over him"

"an awful incident in the trunk of a car leaves her sexually frigid"

blah blah blah —

"So," Bill intoned, "my character, then, is a success? A career success?"

"Yes."

"What does he do?"

Pam frowned. "That really has no bearing on the story. I don't believe it was addressed in the script."

"Can he be an economist?"

Pam found herself sending all her willpower to her eyes. Must not do eye roll... "Yes, Bill. I suppose him being an economist would not be a problem."

Bill nodded quickly and confidently. "I'll do it." Pam found herself battling another eye roll. The pressure in her head was painful._ Ah, yes. This was definitely a FAVOR. Amelia owes me. I will tell her she must teach me more spells_.

"Bill, you know Hollywood doesn't work like that. If the decision were mine, you'd certainly get the role. Really I can't imagine anyone else, now that I've discovered you. But others will have to be convinced. I have the script. Why don't we tape your audition? I can email it to the producers. I'm confident they'll agree with me, but it's their investment. They need to not be flippant with their investors' money. They are held accountable."

Bill's eyes took on a focused look. A taped audition? "I will do it. Now?"

"Oh, I must send Maxine out to Kinkos to get the script printed. So we'll need to wait a bit. There is more, though."

"Yes?" Bill smiled.

Pam wanted to rip his head off. She wondered again at Sookie's mental stability for actually agreeing to marry this Douche Bag.

"Well, you know how campy so many in Hollywood are, of course?"

"Yes, of course," Bill agreed knowingly. "It is well known within the industry."

"Yes," agreed Pam. "I believe your tape would be much more effective if you were in costume. I happen to have the costume for the scene as I picked up wardrobe pieces from my friend—a stylist who lives outside New Orleans. That is quite fortuitous for you. Others submitting their auditions for consideration will not have the benefit of the character's attire. You realize how much of an edge that gives you?"

Bill was thinking. He'd read that Clint Eastwood insisted his Spaghetti Western poncho never be washed, so it permeated the character, the Man with No Name. If that was what Clint Eastwood did, so would Bill Compton.

"Yes, Pam. I agree," Bill nodded. "What is the costume?"

At Bill's question, Pam bit the inside of her mouth. "Well, the long-lost love, in the aftermath of the trunk incident, finds herself untrusting of men. Of adults. So, to convey to her his love, and his absolute acceptance of her preference for the inner child," _hold it together, Pam_, "he presents himself to her as a pixie when he comes to make his protestations of love."

"A pixie?" Bill's face took on a quizzical look. "You mean like Peter Pan?"

Pam struggled not to explode with laughter. _Crying babies in dirty diapers...crying babies in dirty diapers.._. "Yes. Peter Pan." She shut her mouth tightly.

"That..." Bill paused, "is absolutely..." pause..."brilliant!" Bill exclaimed.

_Yes, yes it is. Thank you_. Pam wondered off-hand if there might be a real movie in her twisted imaginings.

"Hmm," Bill let out a pleased sound. "So when do you want to do this?"

"Well, I need to set up the film equipment and Maxine needs to come back with the script. The costume is in my room. It should not take me long to procure it," Pam made an 'I'm thinking' face. "Why don't I get the costume now for you so you may dress and acclimate yourself to the soul of the character."

"Pam, I was just going to suggest that very thing," Bill nodded, a plaintive smile ghosting his lips as he lightly thumped his heart with his hand.

"Method actor?" Pam asked.

"Of course," Bill grinned.

Pam was now wavering on whether or not the Teacups owed her. This was turning out to be more amusing than she thought possible. She left to go get the pixie costume.

A short while later Pam and Maxine were sitting upstairs in Pam's bedroom. Pam had delivered Bill's costume to him and the two women were eagerly awaiting his arrival. They each held a copy of the 'script.' As she read, Maxine's mouth was fixed in her 'O' of perpetual shock, while Pam's face took on an amused smirk.

"I'm pretty sure I don't know what that means, Pam." Maxine said, in a slightly nervous whisper.

"Don't worry about it, my horrified friend," Pam comforted. "I think this will do nicely. Mr. Bill, in his attire, spouting off these words. He has no background as an actor. No one would have any cause to doubt the veracity of the tape as being the authentic protestations of love made by a sexual deviant with a stunted growth Peter Pan complex."

Maxine had to hand it to Pam. The script made her blush six shades of red. And she had Italian relatives in Brooklyn!

Finally there was a sound in the doorway. The two women looked up. Bill. Bill wearing his costume.

Pam's jaw actually dropped. Well, lowered a millimeter.

Maxine could not stop an "Oh!" from escaping her lips. Stealing a glance at Pam, she strengthened her resolve. If they were to get through this and not tip Bill off that anything other than an audition tape was being filmed, they would need to play it cool.

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It was a green Peter Pan costume. The two women stood up and stared at Bill. Mesmerized, neither of them could tear their eyes from him.

Maxine was, quite simply, aghast. She had declined Pam's offer of a glass of wine earlier. Now she regretted her Puritan stance.

_Glass_? She thought. _I should have grabbed the whole bottle._

Meanwhile, it wasn't the costume that had Pam in a state of shock. It was the fake mustache Bill was wearing.

_Hmm_, she thought. _This isn't good. It must be clearly identifiable as him. I cannot have him disguising his face_.

"Bill," Pam started, "it looks wonderful on you. The costume, that is. The mustache, however, must go."

Bill made a face. He felt the mustache was his unique contribution to the character. It was his character, after all. "No, I disagree."

Pam almost moved several facial muscles in response. "Bill, the man is going for the Peter Pan 'forever young' pixie look. I don't see where a 70s pornstache comes into play." Pam replied huffily.

"Pam, with all due respect, I believe I know this character better than you do."

Pam's eyes widened at his words. _He is really incredible_, she thought.

"Well, that may be so, Bill, but I know the producer. He likes his men clean-shaven and boyish. You don't want to," Pam strode over to wear Bill stood in the doorway, "shoot yourself in the foot just on principle, do you? "

Standing in front of Bill, before he had a chance to react, Pam grabbed the fake mustache and yanked on it as hard as she could.

"Aaaaarrrr!" Bill screeched at the intensity of the pain.

Pam's eyes slanted in surprise at the blood. "Did you glue that on?"

"Ow-ow-ow-ow," Bill was waving his hands in front of his face, in an effort to cool off the hot raw pain of his now-stinging flesh. "Yes," he hissed.

"Why did you do that?"

"I did not want to worry about it slipping."

"Yeah, well, now your face is raw and covered with abrasions."

Bill looked thoughtful at Pam's words. Silently he seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

"You know? I think this is even better. Now he feels pain like she feels pain," Bill's eyes stared off in the distance. "Yes, yes. I can work with this. Pam, your action, while causing me great pain, I believe will ultimately result in a better performance because now I know her pain."

Pam just stared at Bill, silently. She looked over at Maxine. The two women exchanged a look. Finally Pam refocused her energy. Before she did, however, she could not help but wonder once more at Sookie's mental stability.

_It is_, she thought, _really quite beyond comprehension._

"Okay, Bill," Pam concentrated on her 'star,' "let's focus and get started. Here's the script," she handed him a small stack of papers. "I will play the part of Mary, but the scene I have selected is mostly your character since it's your audition."

Bill bent over to study his script. Periodically he would look up and stare blindly ahead. Mouthing the script silently to himself, a few times he pumped his fist or beat it into his chest.

As Pam observed she could not help but consider the fact that Bill was clearly a celebrity in his own mind. She personally was finding his theatrics at just reading the script very entertaining.

_If there's a place for Hasselhoff, maybe there's a place for Bill Compton._ She mentally shrugged.

Finally, the group was ready for the 'shoot.' Pam was on her feet, facing Bill as she was playing 'Mary.' Maxine, meanwhile, sat, keeping an eye on the camera that Pam had set up to focus only on Bill. They waited for Bill to speak. And waited. And waited.

Finally Bill spoke.

"I understand your fears." As he gave Pam a heated look, he licked his lips.

Pam's script called for very few lines from 'Mary.' She had even considered crossing out 'Mary's' lines altogether and just making the girl a frigid mute, but Maxine thought Bill might find that suspicious.

"I love you, my young darling. I want to spend endless nights demonstrating my youth and vigor as I pump you wildly like a jackhammer."

Pam kept her face expressionless. She heard Maxine snort. "I want to touch my wang day in and day out as I stare at you, you little girl."

Pam—not one given to peels of laughter—was having a difficult time keeping silent. Maxine, in the meantime, was snorting wildly, attempting to mask it as coughing.

"Yes," Bill went on. "You're a little girl. I'm a little boy. See how we are perfect for one another?"

_Kill me now_, thought Pam.

_This guy's a half-baked loon. I don't get how Sookie was ready to marry him. Maybe he drugged her_, thought Maxine.

"As a man, I may be too old. Too old for you. But as Peter Pan, prince of the pixies, I will never be too old for you, little girl."

Pam, off-camera, called out in a high-pitched little girl voice, "Okay!"

"My jungle gym is ready in the playroom. You ready to play? I'll play with you." Bill took his right hand and patted himself, lingering for a while on his pixie-clad wang. "How old are you, anyway? My little young angel? Are you old enough?" Bill laughed. "Eh? The angels get younger while the pixies grow older. Touch me." Bill brought his hand up from where it sat on his member to his heart.

With these final two words, Bill had gone off-script. Normally, Pam didn't like actors improvising. In Bill's case, he really did seem to "feel" the character: a psychotic child molester with a Peter Pan fetish. So, his "touch me" was really quite brilliant.

It was 'Mary's' cue to speak. "I like to play!" Pam squeaked.

"I love you, little girl. In the genuine, wholesome way only the prince of the pixies can." Bill thumped his chest several times at this solemn vow.

Pam was startled to find herself thinking that Bill, with his ingrained sense of melodrama really did have a presence. Eric had actually called that out when the man was 'singing' musical theater. So Eric knew 'presence.' Pam hated discovering Eric had unexplored talents that overlapped with her own. It messed with the established power dynamic.

In the meantime, the 'script' called for Bill to lewdly touch his manhood, while repeating the phrase 'come here, little girl. Come to Peter Pan, little one.'

Bill, deciding, apparently, that the scene would play more authentic if he actually whipped it out, proceeded to whip it out.

Maxine's face froze in shock. Pam saw her friend was caught so off guard, her trademark 'O' did not even had an opportunity to properly form on her lips. Pam, however, thinking this a brilliant improvisation, nodded encouragingly to Bill. He spoke.

"Come here, little girl," Bill stroked his... flaccid?... erect? ..penis. Pam couldn't tell. Maybe he suffered from micro-penis. "Come to Peter Pan, little one."

"CUT!" Pam finally put an end to it. Smiling, she looked at Bill and nodded. "Bill, you are a natural. Look at Maxine," Pam gestured to the older woman. "She is overcome at your performance."

That was true. Maxine looked a bit green, like she would vomit at any moment.

"Well, please, feel free to attire yourself once more. I will edit the film and forward it to the producer." Pam gave Bill one of her fake smiles.

Bill, in the meantime, put little 'Willie' away. He nodded in a businesslike manner. "Who is the producer?"

Pam frowned. Why had she not seen this question coming? Not wanting the ruse to be discovered, she felt she needed to give him a real name.

"It is Russell Edgington." Bill nodded.

At that moment, Pam's phone rang. Looking down, she thought, speak of the devil. She quirked an eyebrow in a meaningful way to Bill.

"Hello Russ. How are you?"

"Don't 'how are you' me, you goddamn dike! You know how I am!" He paused and continued in a quieter tone. "I had your pansy-ass Sheriff of Nottingham in here with Goldilocks and they don't want to play with the paparazzi."

Pam frowned. When she had spoken with Russ earlier, she had agreed with his assessment that the most surefire way to get the National Intruder to not print the article about Eric and Jason being lovers was to offer up something better. She figured Eric would be smart enough to see that and play along.

_Damn Eric_! She thought. _He loves making work for me. He knows I do not like to work! _Pam nodded to Bill, gave Maxine a significant look, and wandered out into the hallway.

"He did not agree to working with the press?"

"I gave him no choice. He finally caved. What did you call the girlfriend? Barracuda? Couldn't agree more."

Pam's mind was whirling. _Okay, Eric agreed_, she thought. _Where is the problem? _"Russ, if Eric agreed, what's the problem?"

"Well, the Danish kid got into a fight and is at the hospital."

Danish kid? "Who is this?"

"Little Ricky."

"Oh, yes," Pam nodded in recognition. "Emo Boy."

"Yeah, Emo Boy. Anyway, Emo Boy is at the hospital. Guess what they find out?"

"What?"

"Well, for one thing, he's got an underage Louisianan wife!"

"No!" Emo Boy moves quickly.

"For another, he's only 16, not 18. We thought he was 18. He can't be staying by himself. He's a minor."

"Oh, yes," Pam was starting to sense there was more to this.

"I want Northman to step in and be a guardian/role model for the kid. Nothing says 'manliness' more than having a son to take to ballgames and ...and..." Russ faltered on this. Pam smiled. The man had no idea what men did with their sons. "Concerts. But heavy metal stuff. None of that ABBA shit. You get me, Pam?"

"Yes, Russ. I believe I do."

"Good."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Explain it to your boy. Get him over to the Shreveport Hospital. He's got the Barracuda with him. They should have Lattesta and Weiss trailing after them by now. Explain the whole guardian thing without the paparazzi catching on. Let's let them think it's been going on before today."

Pam was thinking. Russ had said a lot. She wanted to be clear. "So, Russ, Eric and Sookie did not want to deal with the press but you gave them no choice and now they will have Lattesta and Weiss trailing them?"

"Yes. For 24 hours or something like that." _Interesting_ Pam thought. She wondered how she could work the Peter Pan angle into this. "Okay, Russ. I believe I understand. Do you know where the Viking and the Barracuda are at present?"

"No clue. Somewhere here with the two reporters. Just find them and get them to the hospital. I'm having lawyers draw up legal papers for Emo Boy to be under ... whatever...custodial care of Northman. We gotta get those to you before you go to the hospital. I'll have Talbot look into finding some sporting events we could send the two off on. He likes being helpful. He misses the house when we're on location."

Pam listened but her mind was elsewhere.

Eric and the Barracuda are really going to love having one more teacup to be responsible for. And one who is so precocious as to take a teen bride after being in the country less than a week! A mad gleam in her eye, Pam considered how best to break the news to them. That is, how best to maximize her own amusement. And how much amusement would it give her!

Pam prided herself on her ability to choose her people wisely. Her people rarely failed her.

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**AN: OMG. It was so hard to edit this with tears rolling down my eyes. Kill me, now. WTF? I know, I know. I've gotten two reviews in the past week telling me to stop doing crack. I swear I don't do drugs.**

**Reviews: Are we at 1,500 yet? Come on! **

**The Indie Fic Contest has kicked off. I'd encourage anyone thinking of dipping their toe in the waters of an SVM Contest, this is the one to go for. Vic_Vega66 is top notch.**


	70. The Wigger, the Guardian, the Paparazzi

******Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**  


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Chapter Seventy: The Wigger, the Guardian, and the Paparazzi**

Lafayette caught up with the wigger at the corner where the photo shoot was taking place. At first, the kid put up a struggle. But the wigger, realizing he was being tackled by a real black person, quickly quieted down.

Lafayette was ready to scare the little creep straight. "What's wrong wit' you? Huh? You think it makes yo' mama proud to know her boy likes to beat up on kids littler than him?"

The kid froze up at the mention of his mother. "Please don't tell her! Please!"

Lafayette just shook his head, disappointed. "Kid, if you wants ta be badass, be badass! Don't be freakin' when I bring up yo' mama!"

Laffy just shook his head. Having grabbed the kid, he then turned him over to the studio security guards who were radioing in a report of the incident to the Shreveport Police Department.

Divested of the juvenile delinquent, Laffy wandered back up the street to check in on Godric and the Stackhouses and make sure Godric was okay.

Although Lafayette had been gone only five— maybe ten— minutes, it seemed like quite a lot had happened in a short span of time. Someone— probably Hondo, Laffy figured since he knew Hondo had witnessed the assault— had called 911. An ambulance was now coming down the street. Lafayette checked in with Godric who, nodding and smiling, seemed to be okay. Looking away from Godric, Laffy met Amelia's eyes with an unspoken question. Intuitive, Amelia caught on quickly.

"He's okay. He didn't lose consciousness or anything," she reported, smiling.

Laffy nodded. He figured he'd better let Eric know what was going on.

_I'd better text Eric and let him and his lady friend know there was a fight but that their kids are okay,_

In the meantime, Godric, slightly dazed, was lying on the sidewalk. Actually half of him was lying on the sidewalk, while the other half was comfortably propped up on Amelia. Godric smiled appreciatively at Amelia, while Amelia responded with a reassuring grin.

The ambulance, siren finally silenced, pulled up along the curb adjacent to where the kids had stationed themselves. Two Emergency Medical Technicians (EMTs) jumped out of the vehicle. The first EMT, Shannon, crouched down to speak to Godric. Facing Godric, she introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm Shannon. What's your name?"

"Godric. You may call me God."

Shannon nodded. His words seemed to leave her unconvinced at his mental condition.

"No, that's really his name!" Amelia offered. "He's a foreigner!"

"Uh-huh." Shannon glanced briefly at Amelia before returning her gaze to Godric. "Can you tell me what happened to you?"

Godric gave her a blank stare.

"Um, he's not that good with English," Amelia informed the EMT. "We're gonna get him into an ESL class. I can tell you what happened."

Amelia proceeded to give the medic a thorough account of the incident and how Godric came to be lying on the ground.

"Where's he from?"

"He's Danish."

"Can he understand and speak any English?"

Amelia made a face. Considering, she finally spoke.

"He knows some things better than others. If you ask him questions about acting and the show he's on, he'll understand you."

"Uh-huh." Shannon took out a pupil penlight. "So, Godric, do you know what day today is?" Godric didn't answer, bestowing another vacant look on Shannon.

"Ask him about his script," Amelia interjected. "Godric, did you get a script today? Which script did you get today?"

"Tuesday's script." Godric answered promptly. Shannon raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced back at Amelia, who just nodded.

"Okay. Godric," Shannon looked up as her partner joined them. "We need to stabilize your neck. This is called a c-collar. We're putting it around your neck to keep your neck and spine stable."

Between the two EMTs, they managed to place the c-collar on Godric who was now laying down flat on the ground. Amelia managed to gently shimmy herself out from underneath him and was now kneeling at his side. She kept a tight grip on his hand.

"Godric, how old are you?" Again, Godric met Shannon's eyes with an uncomprehending stare. Running the pupil light over his eyes, the medic saw that they reacted normally.

Amelia decided to step in again. "Uh, God," Amelia nodded encouragingly at her friend. "When did your makers make you?"

"Sixteen years ago." He replied easily.

Shannon stared at him and then at Amelia. "That ain't Danish. What they hell?"

Amelia shrugged.

All of Godric's vitals appearing to be normal, Shannon and her partner, House, lifted him quickly and easily onto a stretcher. They then rolled the stretcher towards the ambulance.

Finally dawning on her that they were actually taking Godric away, Amelia squawked. "No! What are you doing? Where are you taking him?"

"We're bringing him to the hospital," Shannon the EMT replied. "He hit the ground when he got clipped and we need to make sure he doesn't have a concussion or any internal damage. You said he was a bit dazed," she reminded Amelia, not unreasonably.

Amelia replied without a second thought. "Fine. I'm going with him." Amelia started to climb into the back of the ambulance.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on there," Shannon made a move to block Amelia from getting into the ambulance. "We can't allow that."

"But, I'm a relative," Amelia replied coolly.

"Oh, yeah?" Shannon didn't seem to believe it.

"Yes! I'm his wife!" Ame's tone was kind of snippy.

Uh-oh. Hoyt and Hunter had been quietly standing nearby, observing the EMTs interact with Godric and Amelia. Hearing their sister's conversation with the EMT, the two boys silently groaned. As they had been watching their sister in action, they knew she wasn't going to give up. Ame was just as stubborn as Sook was. Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a look. This was a doozy of a lie.

"No, you're not." Shannon shook her head.

"No, it's true. I'm his wife."

_Shit! Ame just never friggin' knows when to quit! _Thought Hoyt.

_Geez, that would be funny_, thought Hunter. _Aunt Linda would have a cow if even a 13-year old Lesbian got married before her._

The medic, in the meantime, was not buying it. Her partner came over to see what the hold-up was. He seemed similarly skeptical.

Amelia then decided that a strong offense was the best defense. "What's wrong with you? This is Louisiana! You know it's possible. I'm 16!"

"Where's your ring?"

"We're kids! We don't have money for rings!"

"Uh-huh," Shannon nodded. "You got a marriage license?"

"Yes!" Amelia replied smugly.

"With you?"

"Who the heck carries around a marriage license? Are you married?"

Shannon nodded.

"Well, let me see your license." Amelia thrust her chin out in challenge.

Shannon seemed to reconsider that fighting with some crazy girl was a poor use of time when they should be getting the injured kid to the hospital.

"Besides," Amelia added, "you need me to translate what Godric's saying."

The girl actually had a point with that. "You can communicate with him?"

"Of course I can communicate with my own husband." Amelia channeled Pam on her response. "You saw me!"

The two EMTs looked at each other. Silently, they weighed the options. Finally, they agreed.

"Fine," said Shannon. "Get in." Turning to her partner, Shannon said, "we'd better radio this in pronto and let them know who we're coming in with."

Amelia, pleased at her win, kept her face in lockdown. She couldn't let them see that she'd doubted for a moment that they'd let her come with them.

"One second. Let me just tell my brothers I'm going to the hospital _with my husband_." Amelia walked over to Hoyt and Hunter. They both looked at her like she had two heads.

"Ame, you really did it now," started Hoyt.

"Yeah, when Sook finds out, she's gonna be PISSED!" Hunter agreed.

Amelia ignored them and grabbed Hoyt's phone from his hand. She got on Safari and spent a few minutes researching what she needed to research. Finally, she handed Hoyt back his phone.

"Listen, I'm going with him. We're going to," pausing Amelia shouted over her shoulder to the medic, "which hospital?" Hearing his confirmation, she turned back to her brothers. "We're going to Shreveport Hospital. Tell Sook what happened. I actually think she'll get it. Someone has to go with God." Amelia shrugged.

"Fine," Hoyt replied. "But I'm not saying a word about you pretending to be married. Sook's gonna flip her shit in a million directions. You can be the one to tell her."

"Fine," Amelia huffed. "I seriously can't wait for you two to grow out of this baby phase." With that, Amelia turned on her heel and went to go join her 'husband' for the ride to the hospital.

Hoyt and Hunter watched her walk away and climb into the back of the ambulance. Once it pulled away, sirens blaring, the boys shook their heads.

"That's it," Hunter started, "two of 'em are batshit crazy. Guess Tara's okay now she's not livin' with the shaft anymore." Hunter kicked a piece of broken glass out into the street.

"Uh-huh," agreed Hoyt. "Sisters are nuts. Even the one that sometimes likes girls."

"Yup," agreed Hunter.

The two boys returned to their spot sitting on the sidewalk bench and watching the film crew busily working at the corner. After a few minutes, Hoyt's phone rang. Picking it up, he saw it was Sookie.

"Uh-oh. It's Crazy Sister #1," he announced. Lifting the phone, he answered it. "Hi Sook," Hoyt greeted his sister with some trepidation. With everything that had just happened, he figured he and Hunt were in trouble somehow. He just wasn't sure how, yet.

"Hoyt? You're okay! Thank God you're okay!" Sookie exclaimed.

"Yeah," _How did she know about God saving him from getting his ass kicked by the wigger? _"Well, I haven't thanked him yet, but I will. So you know about all that?" He figured Lafayette must have told her about everything?

Sookie, on her end, puzzled by the first part of Hoyt's response, opted to focus on the second half.

"Laffy sent us a text and just now we passed him. He said you kids were all right, but that some other kids got into a fight," Sookie paused. "Hoyt, put your phone on speaker so I can talk to your brother and sister too."

"Sure, Sook," Hoyt hit the speaker key. "Anyway, Laffy said he spoke to the security guards. He said a bigger boy was picking on you— "

"A bigger wigger!" Hunt had to make sure the story told was accurate for posterity.

"_WIGGER?_! Hunter Stackhouse, watch your goddamn mouth. Did you start with the boy? Did you? Don't even answer. I know," Sookie didn't speak for a moment and Hunter, complying with her instructions, remained silent. "I'll take your silence as a yes."

Hunter, eyes open wide and mouth gaping, stared at Hoyt's phone. Outraged by his sister's unfair condemnation, the boy was rendered speechless.

_Fuck! _Hunter thought_. She said not to answer! Sisters are fucking crazy! _

"Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you." Sookie paused realizing one voice had very much been missing from the conversation. "Amelia?" Silence. "Where the hell is Amelia? Hoyt? Hunter? Where the hell is your sister?"

"She ...uh...decided to go with God."

"_WHAT_?" Sookie tried to grasp her head around her younger brother's words. "Jesus H Christ! Did you kids run into some friggin' Jehovah's Witnesses? _SERIOUSLY? YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THE HELL YOUR SISTER IS?_

[With a sense of urgency, Sookie directed her next words to Eric] "_Eric, we have to call the police. Amelia is not with them_."

"No, Sook!" This from Hoyt. "Amelia's not missing!"

"Naw," Hunter piped up. "No one would take her. And if they did, they'd bring 'er back pretty quick."

Hoyt, throwing a "SHUT UP" look at his younger brother, hissed, "_Not helping_!"

"Sook, Ame's not missing," Hoyt repeated. "She went in the ambulance. She's on her way to the hospital with God. Didn't Lafayette tell you what happened?"

"What? What God? No! Laffy apparently didn't tell us a goddamn thing!"

Sookie was, at that moment thinking she had entrusted her siblings— possibly the most unruly, trouble- fated youngsters that had ever walked the planet —with perhaps the most inadequate babysitter that had ever walked the planet.

In the meantime, Eric, as he stood within arms length from a shrill, shrieking Sookie, was trying to make sense out of his attempt at a phone conversation with Pam. Pam, who was going on and on with sly double entendres, ribald jokes, and her blasted never-ending puns.

"Pam, can you be quiet a minute, please?" He wanted to replay this ridiculous scenario just to assure himself he had it right.

"Fine," Pam huffed.

"What you're telling me is Russell's idea for me to not look gay is to have me be the guardian for a 16-year old boy who doesn't speak English?" He paused for effect, and to give his friend an opportunity to say something, but Pam chose this time to adhere to his request and remain silent.

"That makes no fucking sense, Pam. You do realize that, don't you?" He couldn't see it, but Eric knew —without a doubt— Pam was smirking on the other end of the line.

"Well, Eric, I'm not the one you need to convince. Besides, the boy speaks some English. Certainly, he seems to know a couple of words you don't" she replied. Something about her tone didn't sit right with Eric.

"Pam, what are you trying to make me guess? We don't have time for this. Whatever it is you want to torment me with, hold it for now. Let's get through what we need to get through and there will be time for taunting later."

"Fine." Pam figured even if she couldn't tease him with the information she still needed to share the information with him and, having the choice of informing him in a manner that is amusing to her or a manner that is not amusing to her, she may as well tell him in the manner that is amusing to her.

"Eric," she started, "you know how you are with Sookie?"

Eric sighed. Where the hell was she going with this? "No, how?"

"You know," she paused, "how if one were to grab Sookie's handbag and peer inside to see what she keeps in there, they would be startled to find your testicles? And they would realize how you waddle behind her like a giant King penguin because you're off-balance due to your missing gonads?"

Silence. "Pam, you are on thin ice. What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying the Dane doesn't fall far from the Swede. Your new fake son is apparently every bit the ladies' man as his fake dad."

"Pamela," Eric's voice was cold, "if you were here I just might ring your neck. If you have something that is in any way, shape, or form constructively helpful or otherwise pertinent to my current situation, you had better just stop this nonsense and tell me what it is."

"Fine," Pam rolled her eyes and then wondered if it counted if there was no one around to see it.

"Don't ask me if its legal, but Godric apparently is married. Russ said the report coming in from the hospital is that he has a 'wife' with him."

"You," pause, "are NOT," pause "fucking serious?"

"That's everything you needed to know. Now just get to the hospital and play along that Godric's been your ward for a while" Pam finished. Realizing she had overlooked something important, she hesitated. "Eric, I think Russ was assuming you can understand Danish. Can you?"

"Yes, Pam." Eric took a deep breath. Where the fuck were the reporters? And he'd been foolish enough to think that nothing more could possibly happen today? "I speak Danish."

"Good," Pam replied. "I suppose in this mess, at least there's that to make this slightly easier." Recollecting herself Pam started up again after a moment. "So, you need to get to the hospital. Play role of doting dad. Try to explain the deal to Godric. I don't know if you need to tell him the whole story. Relaying that Russ wants him to do this and that Russ will be angry with him if he doesn't may be enough to get the kid to play along."

Eric grunted his assent.

"I will," Pam continued, "be there shortly."

Eric drew in a breath at that. Pam was going to the hospital too? "You're going? Why?"

"Russ told me to get down there and oversee. Russ will be angry if I do not comply with his request." Pam was silent for a few seconds. She could sense Eric's tension. "See?" She pointed out. "I think fear of an angry and vengeful Russell is sufficient motivation for anyone. Don't you?"

"Pam, this conversation is done. Shreveport Hospital?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Let me tell Sookie. We need to find and gather the children first. Then we will see you at the hospital."

Eric finally snapped his phone shut and looked up. Sookie was still on the phone with her two brothers.

For the first time Eric realized there were two people standing expectantly near he and Sookie.

A man and a woman, not part of the filming crew, that meant they had to be...

Eric held out a hand to the woman. She had neat, chin-length dark hair and wore a black pantsuit. She appeared to be in her 40s.

"Eric Northman," he introduced himself.

"Sara Weiss. Pleased to meet you finally Eric," she nodded pleasantly.

Eric leaned over to greet the man. The man was slightly younger than his partner. He had short brown hair and wore slacks and a charcoal-colored sweater. He held a camera.

"Tom Lattesta. How do you do?" Eric nodded in greeting, as the two men shook hands.

Eric was wondering how well he and Sookie would be able to pull off the paparazzi trailing them, when suddenly Sookie's agitated voice could be heard above the background noise of the nearby photo shoot.

"Well, FINE," she yelled. "I agree that this kid probably is better off not going to the hospital by himself—_his fucking guardian should be there with him_! NOT your 13-year-old idiot sister! Hoyt, I'm yelling at you 'cause you're the most levelheaded of the bunch—which means practically nothing. Because right now I'm thinking you're every bit as fucktarded crazy as your brother and sister! YOU SHOULD'VE CALLED ME THE SECOND YOU REALIZED WHAT AMELIA WAS UP TO!"

Eric froze as Sookie's words registered. Amelia had gone to the hospital with an injured boy. Oh. An injured boy who did not have a guardian. Uh-oh. Eric went back to listening to Sookie's end of the conversation. He attempted to smile graciously at the two reporters.

"Well, Hoyt, if they needed someone to translate for the kid, they could've come up with someone better than your sister! Amelia doesn't speak Danish. Eric probably speaks Danish." She looked up at him at that moment and Eric nodded warily in confirmation.

Turning back to the reporters, Eric realized he had no idea how long they'd been standing there. He had no clue as to how much of his conversation with Pam they may have overheard.

For that matter, he had no idea how much of Sookie's words the two 'reporters' would have heard. With a grimace, Eric recalled Sookie's most recent string of epithets.

_Fucking_

_Idiot_

_Fucktarded_

_Ah, yes, this lover of mine definitely has quite the vocabulary_, Eric thought.

Looking over at the reporters, Eric found himself making eye contact with Weiss. Gesturing toward Sookie having a tirade on the phone, he shrugged, "kids," and gave the woman a wan smile.

"I have two teen-agers of my own, Eric. Shit happens."

Eric let out a breath. Maybe this wouldn't go as badly as he feared. Turning his attention back to Sookie, she was quiet as she nodded.

"Okay, we'll be right there," she glanced at Eric. "_I'll be right there_," she amended her statement. "Eric is in makeup. He may have to stay and work."

Ending the call, Sookie noticed the couple flanking Eric. She figured they were the paparazzi. She also figured her taking the boys to the hospital to get Amelia was a good way for the Stackhouses to avoid the paparazzi. If the reporters stayed here with Eric, they could just film him working. Ignoring the newcomers for the time being, Sookie decided to just launch into a conversation with Eric.

"You know your new colleague? Godric?" Sookie paused as Eric nodded. "Well, he's the one that got punched out by the wi-" Sookie stopped herself, glancing at the reporters. Her face reddened as she recalled the tone and content of her conversation with Hoyt.

_Fuck. So that's how it happens! _She thought. _Shit! I'm gonna wind up on You Tube. Dammit!_

"Yes, Sookie?" Eric prodded. "What happened?"

Sookie continued. This time, the cadence of her voice was much more level. "Godric's the one that got punched out by the strange kid." She took a breath reminding herself again that all her kids were okay. "Laffy's gotta learn to give better details if we ever let him babysit again."

Although the words fell from her mouth without a second thought, Sookie's use of the 'we' pronoun wasn't lost on Eric or the reporters.

"Yes, Sookie," Eric nodded, meeting her gaze. "Agreed."

Sookie looked at Eric. Part of the deal for the day was he not address her as 'lover' in front of the reporters. Banning that word didn't seem to do any good, however. Somehow the inflections he was putting into saying her name —maybe it was the way 'yes' lisped into 'Sookie' —was making her a little lightheaded.

_Focus, Stackhouse_, she instructed herself.

Eric picked that moment to take charge of the situation.

"Well, we need to get to the hospital." Eric turned to the reporters. "We need to collect Sookie's siblings and get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I apologize for the disjointed nature of this outing—it could not be helped." Eric cut his gaze to Sookie, but it was obvious his words were directed to the reporters. "We need to leave now but you are welcome to meet us there."

"Shreveport Hospital?" Tom Lattesta asked.

"Yes. The ER." Eric confirmed.

"Okay," Tom nodded. "It's a plan."

Eric looked at Sookie as her eyes widened and she bit her lower lip in annoyance. She obviously was holding back a tirade at his latest 'high-handed' take-charge move. But, Eric reasoned, it could not be helped. He had information she did not. He knew he was the boy's 'guardian.' He knew they all needed to go to the hospital. He would explain it all to her in the car.

_Hopefully_, Eric thought, _I'll be able to calm her down._

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**AN: "O" *shakes head* There's a lot wrong with this fic. Needless to say, I fucking loved this chapter. Hunter and Pam were both at the top of their games. Sookie too for that matter. Amelia as well. Even Eric.**** I swear I don't do drugs.**

**Reviews: Are we at 1,500 yet? Please. I'm a self-hating review whore. Really, I am. I'm looking forward to hanging it up.**


	71. A Night at the ER

**__********Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**  


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**Chapter Seventy-One: A Night at the ER**

Once safely sitting next to Godric in the ambulance, Amelia took his hand and smiled at him reassuringly.

"Don't be afraid," she told him in his native language.

Startled at first, the boy then grinned appreciatively.

"How do you feel?" She continued. "Hurt?"

Godric focused on Amelia's attempt at speaking Danish. Despite her butchering, he seemed to get it. "Okay," he said, with a slight shy smile. He gestured to the back of his head where he hit the ground. Amelia looked and saw a slight bump was forming. Godric, watching her bemusedly, made several questioning hand movements. Finally, he opened his eyes wide, an unspoken question on his lips.

"Jeg fortalte dem jeg var din kone," she explained. _I told them I was your wife. _

Godric, surprised at first, hooted in high-pitched laughter.

It was Amelia's turn to be surprised. _High-pitched laughter, huh? That's worse than high-pitched crying. Maybe they can fix that at the ESL __class? s_he wondered.

Amelia wanted him to go along with her ruse. She figured this was the best way to make sure they wouldn't be separated at the hospital. Amelia really thought it was important Godric not be alone at the hospital.

"Foregive." She had to repeat this Danish word a few times because she didn't know how to say it so it didn't sound like "forgive."

Godric just stared at her, a perplexed look on his face. Whatever the word was supposed to sound like, she obviously wasn't saying it right. Finally, he got it!

"Ah!" Godric nodded, comprehending. _Pretend_! Amelia was asking Godric to pretend that they were married. He nodded to indicate he understood. Still holding her hand, he lifted it to his lips and laid a gentle kiss on it.

Amelia melted. Wide-eyed, she looked at Godric. A big, near-delirious smile seemed permanently plastered on her face. Then God winked at her. Amelia blushed.

The EMT, in the meantime, observed all this quietly. _Maybe they are married_, Shannon thought. _Probably they're not. But they sure are darn cute together._

A short while later, the ambulance arrived at the hospital. The two medical technicians unloaded Godric's gurney at the ER entrance and brought him inside. Amelia followed close behind.

Amelia, due to many hours spent watching hospital dramas while sequestered away at Felicia's house hiding from Nazi MacDougal, knew that soon they'd be asking her all sorts of questions. She figured Godric had health insurance through the television show. But she needed to know his last name. She noticed Shannon had an iPhone.

"Um, could I use your phone for a second? I won't make a call. I just need to look something up." Amelia bit on her lower lip, slightly pleading look on her face.

"Sure, kid." Shannon handed her the phone.

Amelia quickly researched the Danish words she needed to know. Meanwhile, the EMT attempted to spy over the girl's shoulder.

Amelia, sensing the woman's prying eyes, turned, glared at her, and moved several feet away. Done, Amelia walked back to Shannon and returned the woman's phone. Smiling sweetly, she said,

"Thank you for helping my husband."

The woman's tough exterior melted a bit at the girl's obviously sincere expression of gratitude. Shannon smiled back.

Amelia walked over to where Godric was now sitting in the ER waiting room. "What is our last name?" She asked him in his native language.

Godric smiled. Amelia was too funny for words. Which was good, because he didn't really have the words to describe her anyway. At least, he did not have the words in English.

"Christiansen," he replied with a grin.

"God Christiansen, huh?" Shaking her head, Amelia mumbled to herself. "Can't make stuff like this up." Turning her attention back to Godric, she figured she'd try to get answers to some of the questions she knew would come soon enough. "Do you have health insurance?"

Godric nodded and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He grabbed his insurance card and handed it to Amelia. Amelia nodded and looked at the card. Sure enough, 'Godric Christiansen' was the name printed on the card. She put the card in her skirt pocket, and handed Godric back his wallet. As they sat Godric took her hand without any prodding from her.

Amelia had never been a squee type but she felt like she finally got it. She felt like squeeing. She couldn't lose the smile from her face if she tried. The two teens sat waiting in comfortable silence for Godric's name to be called.

Elsewhere in downtown Shreveport, Sookie and Eric had managed to find the two boys outside by the photo shoot. Sookie, still furious, wished briefly it were still socially acceptable to spank kids. Her three younger siblings were sorely trying her patience. The part that she found herself repeatedly getting stuck on was the fact that it had only been five days! Five FUCKING days! It used to take the three of them at least a couple of weeks to wrack up trouble of this magnitude. But five FRIGGIN' days! What the fuck?

Eric, knowing Sookie was approaching the end of her rope, grabbed her hand. Startled she looked up at him. Calm blue eyes met agitated, fretful eyes. Eric took a deep breath. Watching him, she echoed his motion and took a deep breath.

Hoyt and Hunter, after a few minutes of oohing and aahing over Eric's vampire makeup, piled into the backseat of the Pam's Mercedes.

Sookie, though aggravated almost to the point of being unable to talk, still had more questions for her brothers. Recalling her earlier peevishness and her and Eric's little fight over who should drive, Sookie, with a slightly sheepish grin, asked Eric if he'd mind taking over the driving.

With a slight squeeze of her hand and an "of course, lover," Eric slipped easily behind the wheel. Sookie got in on the passenger side.

Sookie, once she'd given Eric directions on how to get to the hospital, took a few more deep breaths. She wordlessly inspected her brothers. Thankfully, they'd managed to find normal t-shirts to wear today. Despite the fact that they had nearly gotten themselves beaten up, the two of them were relatively clean with not a hair out of place. Of course, Hoyt was on the verge of being a teen-ager. She thought his hair was a bit too long and shaggy. He kind of looked like Justin Bieber. Sookie frowned. She hated that look. She decided when she brought Ame to the hair salon, Hoyt would be getting a haircut too. She had to concede, considering they would be meeting up with paparazzi at the hospital, at least the boys looked clean and well-kempt.

_Thank God for small favors_, she told herself silently.

Eric could tell Sookie was gearing up to have a few choice words with her brothers. He decided to steal a few minutes during the drive to contemplate the best way to break the news to her about the whole guardian thing.

Hoyt and Hunter, in the meantime, were fully aware of the fact that they were getting "the Eye." That was what Ame called the Sookie, pre-scolding silent treatment. She said it was their sister's way of mentally wearing them down. Since everything they'd done, so far, had caught Sook off-guard, they hadn't been subjected to it. But, when she knew you'd done something, and she had a few minutes of prep time, you were in for "the Eye."

Hoyt, watching her profile as she turned to face forward, had a slightly worried look on this face. _Oh no! _He thought. _I forgot what a friggin' troublemaker Ame can be! Sook's gonna lose __it when she finds out Ame told the ambulance people that she was married to God._

Hunter, in the meantime, was staring out the rear passenger door window. _Aw, Sook's crazy! _he thought. _Her and Ame both! Let them go crazy on each other at the hospital. Serves __'em right! Crazy sisters!_

Finally Sookie swung around to look at the boys. "Hey, guys," she started. They both turned to look at her. "How did you wind up with Godric?"

"Ame found him." This from Hoyt.

"He's her new boyfriend. Or girlfriend." This from Hunter.

"What?" She briefly glanced over at Eric whose only reaction was a slightly raised right eyebrow. He wisely kept silent. Sookie turned back to face her brothers. "What do you mean?"

"Well, they seem to like each other," Hoyt shrugged. "They were holding hands." Sookie turned back to Eric. "Do you know anything about this kid? Like how old is he? Where his parents are? Stuff like that?" Eric let out a breath.

_Fuck_, he thought. _This is certainly not the ideal way to share this news, but then there really isn't a good way, is there? _"Hmm, funny you should ask that, lover." Still unsure on how to proceed, Eric's lips fell shut as he considered his words.

Although Eric was only quiet a few seconds, it was a few seconds too long for Sookie. Somehow Eric's all- too-brief response did not evoke a sense of confidence.

"Eric," she said his name with frustration. "My 13-year old sister is with this _foreign-born_," Eric looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "boy that I don't know anything about. If you do know something about him, you'd better tell me right now."

"Remember what Russell said?"

"_Are you fucking kidding me?_" She was hoping to not have to think about that lunatic right then. "_What Russell said_? Which part? Calling you gay? Calling me Goldilocks? That we worship grass and live on a commune? Basically saying Katrina was nothing? Stupid shit. No wonder HBO sucks_ ass!"_

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a look. Amelia was definitely in for it. Sook was in rare form. Eric shook his head. Even furious, she was pretty amusing.

"No, none of that." Eric turned his head slightly to capture her eye. "The part about him helping? Coming up with ideas?"

"Oh," Sookie groaned. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath. "What does he want us to do?"

"Me. Not you." Eric sighed. "Godric, it turns out, is only 16. They were originally told he was 18. His parents are in Denmark. He's been living alone at a hotel. That situation cannot continue. He needs..." pausing, he turned to glance at Sookie again, "a guardian."

"A guardian?" Totally confused as to where this was going, Sookie was quick in putting two and two together. Incredulous, she looked at him. "Guardian? Who? You?"

"Yes," Eric nodded, "me."

Sookie groaned. How? When? "When did you find this out?"

"Earlier. When I spoke to Pam. While you were talking to the boys on the phone. I couldn't say anything because the paparazzi were there."

Silently, Sookie nodded. Despite her fury at the whole "Amelia-ambulance-gate" incident, she hadn't been completely oblivious to the fact that Eric had gotten some news from Pam that seemed to have irked him.

_Fuck_, she thought. _Another teen-ager in the house. Amelia's 'boyfriend' no less! _Practical concerns suddenly flooded her head. "Where are we gonna put him? We're out of bedrooms!"

"Lover, don't worry about that. Not an issue. Bill will be gone shortly. Pam is dealing with him today. I have faith," Eric paused here —he had no clue what Pam had planned and, frankly, he didn't _want _to know. "I am confident that...whatever Pam does to him, it will be effective in getting him to leave." This, at least, was not a lie. If Pam wanted you gone, she was pretty skilled in making it happen. As he finished speaking, he pulled to a stop at a traffic light. Eric's eyes once more rested on Sookie.

"Oh," Sookie nodded remembering. "Right! Pam!" _What a long day! Pam_. Sookie had no idea what the hell Pam was up to. All Sookie knew was that she'd overheard Pam mumbling something to herself about a Peter Pan costume. Not much of a Peter Pan fan–or a fan of pixies or fairies of any kind, really—Sookie right then and there decided she didn't want to hear another word about Pam's plans.

Hoyt and Hunter, quiet in the back seat, were absorbing it all. Exchanging looks, the boys silently communicated on these new developments.

_Eric was Godric's guardian?_

_Godric was going to live with them?_

_Could God and Ame be boyfriend/girlfriend if they lived together?_

_They'd have to figure out how to talk to the kid._

Hoyt shook his head. He was confused.

Hunter shook his head. He still wasn't convinced Godric wasn't retarded.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital. Eric turned the Mercedes into the parking garage. A few minutes later the group was out of the car and was following directional signs towards the emergency room.

Sookie, running on nervous energy, led the procession to the ER. Hunter was second, with Hoyt following. Eric brought up the rear to keep an eye on the boys. Arriving at the emergency room, Sookie's blood pressure immediately spiked when she spied the paparazzi sitting in the waiting area, along with several patients waiting to be called. Amelia and Godric, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Sookie went up the nurses' station. Seeing the nurse's nametag, she figured she'd try to be friendly. Catch more bees with honey than vinegar as Gran used to say.

"Hi, Nurse Soontag," she smiled at the woman. "I'm looking for a couple of teen-agers. The boy was in a fight—"

"You mean the Christiansens," the nurse nodded. "They're in with the doctor."

"No. My sister, Amelia—"

"Christiansen." The nurse cut her off. "I understand you, ma'am. Your sister and her husband," Sookie's jaw dropped, "are in with the doctor and they should be out shortly. Your brother-in-law is fine. There's nothing to worry about." Sookie had still not uttered a word. "Ma'am? Would you like a glass of water?"

Eric, having sat the two boys down with strict instructions not to move and to be on good behavior as they had reporters watching them, was standing behind Sookie. Realizing Sookie was on the verge of losing it, he intervened.

"Hi, there," he grinned. The nurse, not an HBO fan, saw a man with apparent blood splatter on his chin.

"Sir, are you all right? Are you here to see a doctor?" She held up two fingers in the 'peace' sign. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

Eric, a quizzical look on his face, just stared at the nurse. Suddenly he remembered he was still in makeup.

"Ah, no," he looked at her identification badge, "Nurse Soontag. I'm actually in quite excellent health. Thank you." He favored her with a gorgeous smile. "I'm an actor. As is Mr. Christiansen. I am his guardian as the boy is a minor."

"Oh!" The nurse looked down at her desk and grabbed Godric's admittance folder. "Well, he gave his wife Amelia as next-of-kin—"

As Sookie shrieked next to him, Eric grabbed her hand and slowly traced a circle on her palm to calm her. Miraculously, it seemed to work. _He's like the Sookie Whisperer, _she thought_. _Her eyes now closed, Sookie took a deep breath. _I could get used to this_.

"Nurse Soontag, I can absolutely state with certainty the teen-agers pulled a ruse. They are not married. My...girlfriend is her sister's legal guardian. And Amelia is only 13—despite whatever she may have told you."

Nurse Soontag scrunched up her face in displeasure. "Is that right?" She frowned. "If that's the case, we've been breaking rules here all afternoon with those two." Annoyed, the nurse let out a loud harrumph.

Weiss and Lattesta had risen from their seats and were now silently observing Eric and Sookie. Lattesta had managed to snap a photograph of Sookie's shocked expression at being informed Godric's 'wife' Amelia was identified as next of kin. Then he'd snapped another side profile shot of Eric and Sookie standing at the nurses' station holding hands. Not to mention, Eric had freely identified the woman as his girlfriend. They would play up that the couple was imminently due to marry. Eric would be like a stepdad to a house full of kids. Precocious kids, at that. Not to mention the guardian thing with Godric Christiansen. The two reporters exchanged a look. This was good stuff.

Nurse Soontag, looking up at the couple, gave them an update. "Godric is fine. He is finishing up with Dr. Ludwig. Amelia is with him. They'll be out in a few minutes. I'd suggest you sit down and wait. It won't be long."

Sookie and Eric went over and sat where Hoyt and Hunter were seated in the waiting area. The two reporters followed them and sat nearby. Sookie threw clandestine looks at Eric. She wanted to get back to the conversation they had been having in the car but she dared not speak in front of the reporters. Unfortunately, Lattesta and Weiss didn't seem interested in going anywhere. They stared riveted at Eric and Sookie even though neither of them was saying a word.

One of the reporters, the female, Weiss, finally leaned forward to whisper something. "We'd like to interview you both. Of course, a hospital waiting room is not an appropriate location. Perhaps at your commune?"

Sookie rolled her eyes. The two boys gave each other a 'WTF' look. Eric kept his face expressionless.

"It's not a commune," Sookie finally replied. "It's just a house. We're a loud, boisterous family. We have a few guests. It's not a commune," Sookie managed to remain calm as she said this. She likely should have let it go at that but she kept speaking. "We...uh...don't worship grass or do anything with farm animals," Weiss' eyes opened wide at that while Eric stifled a laugh. "Heck, all we have is a dog, and he's a bit slow-witted. I'd appreciate any stories you write get that all accurate. Just a family. Struggling to get by like any other family."

"Of course, Miss Stackhouse. May I call you Sookie?"

"You sure can," Sookie smiled. "I'd prefer it." Harder to stab a friend in the back, right? "I guess," Sookie paused and looked over at Eric who sat next to her, "we'll give you a little of the family history when we get back to the house."

"That would be great," Lattesta, silent until now, replied.

Finally a doctor emerged from one of the emergency room examination rooms. A short, gremlin-looking woman, Sookie couldn't help but wonder that the woman had floated out of '**Gulliver's Travels.' **Sookie stood up when she noticed Amelia in the room behind the woman before the door shut.

Sookie bolted to the nurses station where the doctor now stood—barely meeting the counter height—filling out forms and leaning them vertically against the wall of the counter.

"Hi, Doctor," Sookie crouched down to look at the woman's nametag, "Ludwig."

The doctor looked up at Sookie. "Yes?"

"I'm Amelia Stackhouse's sister. Could you please have her to come out of the examination room and talk to me?"

Dr. Ludwig looked at Sookie. "I don't know any Amelia Stackhouses. There's an Amelia Christiansen in there with her husband Godric."

Sookie rolled her eyes. _How many times do I have to go through this? _She wondered. "Um, actually Amelia is 13 years old. She's not married. She's been lying to you all."

Dr. Ludwig harrumphed. "Well, that's a shame. They're awfully cute together."

Sookie's eyes widened. Thirteen years old. Thirteen, people! "Well, are they coming out? How is Godric? Eric," Sookie paused and looked behind her to where Eric was standing. "This is Eric Northman. He's Godric's guardian."

"Oh, well. This is all quite interesting." Dr. Ludwig commented, looking at Eric. "Mr. Northman, I saw your movie, **The Komodo Dragon**. It was inaccurate. You realize, of course, that after a komodo dragon has bitten you, the creature will track you for hours, waiting for the bacteria from its bite to kill you? Then—."

Sookie made a face as the doctor continued to babble on and on about komodo dragons. After a couple of minutes, she couldn't take any more. "With all due respect, doctor," Sookie interrupted, "could you please tell us how Godric is? I don't care about komodo dragons."

Dr. Ludwig—who Sookie had decided was a cast-off from the movie **Poltergeist**—glared at her. "Hm, you say that now, but someday...you may feel differently," the doctor replied huffily.

Sookie just stared at the woman, an incredulous expression on her face. Meeting the eyes of Nurse Soontag over the vertically-challenged doctor's head, Sookie saw the nurse indicate the doctor with her eyes and then tap her head in the general 'all's not right upstairs' gesture. Sookie frowned.

Suddenly she heard her name. "Sookie!"

Looking up, Sookie saw Amelia walking out of the examination room with an attractive, yet pale boy wearing a yoga outfit and Jesus sandals.

"Amelia!" Sookie ran over to her sister and threw her arms around her in a bearhug. Then she remembered. "What the fuck, Amelia?" she hissed. "How fuckin'—"

"Sookie," Eric interrupted. "We should see how Godric is." He gave her a meaningful look.

"But—" she started. Sookie glanced at Eric and, then took note of the two reporters. One was holding a recorder while the other stood jotting down notes. _Great_, she thought. _This is just great_. "We are so having a long talk about today," she whispered to Amelia. She glanced at her watch. "In about 22 1/2 hours."

"Sure." Amelia shrugged. Suddenly a wide grin appeared on her face. "Sookie, this is Godric." Amelia grabbed Godric's hand and pulled him forward. "Sook, he talks a little slow and it's a bit hard to understand him," she paused to glance at him and smile encouragingly.

Sookie just stared at Godric, a tight smile frozen on her face. She nodded. Godric, smiling, said, "Hello."

"At first I was pretty sure he was retarded." Amelia continued in a Stackhouse whisper —that is, a whisper everyone in the emergency room could hear—"but then," she was so excited she was practically giddy, "I realized he was just a foreigner! Isn't that terrific, Sook? He's not retarded at all!"

Sookie groaned at Ame's explanation. _Just what we fucking need, _she thought. _Not only one more goddamn stray but one who doesn't understand __a word we say._

"I didn't realize he was foreign at first, but then one of the film crew came over to talk to him. He told him," at this Amelia did lower her voice, "that he needed to remember to put the toilet seat down when he went." She whispered. "Isn't that cute?"

Sookie just looked at her sister. _Hm_, she thought, _okay. Ame's certainly got an odd idea of cute._

Amelia barely registered her sister's stare. She was staring at Godric and smiling. He was smiling back at her.

Eric jumped in at that point. In Danish, he directed his words to Godric. "Hvordan har du det?" [_How are you feeling?]_

Godric smiled shyly at his costar. God was an Eric Northman fan. He hadn't had any real time to work with him but he was looking forward to it.

"Jeg føler mig bedre," he replied. "Jeg har en bule i hovedet på mig. Det gør ondt når jeg var slået. Jeg føler mig bedre." _["Better," he replied. "I have a bump on my head. Where the boy punched me was sore. But it is better now."]_

Godric made a motion to put his hand out to shake Eric's but Eric made a slight head-shaking movement and grabbed Godric into a hug instead.

Godric was a bit surprised. "Oh! Dette er nice. Er dette en Amerikansk skik?" _[Oh! This is nice. An American custom?]_

Eric snorted in laughter, imagining life as it would be if the customary greeting in the United States involved hugs. "No. Jeg må fortælle dig noget. Russell kender din alder." _[No. I need to tell you something. Russell found out your real age.]_

Godric looked down, embarrassed. "Oh." Worried, he asked the question he dreaded asking. "Gjorde jeg miste min beskæftigelse?" _[Am I __fired?]_

"No," Eric, startled, realized for the first time how alone this 16-year old boy must have felt these past couple of weeks in the United States. In a gentler voice, he continued. "Russell siger du har brug for en værge. Jeg skal være din værge." _[Russell says you need a guardian. I am to be your guardian.] _"Disse to mennesker er reportere." Eric made a subtle head-nod over his shoulder. _[Those two people are reporters.]_

Godric's eyes widened. He nodded and turned his attention back to Eric.

"Vi ønsker, at de tror, jeg er din værge. Det er den historie. Forstår du?" _[We need them to think I am __already your guardian. That is the story. Understand?]_

Godric nodded again.

Just then there was a commotion at the emergency room entrance. Eric grimaced as her heard the new arrival's voice.

"Get out of my way, Mall Cop. I need to get in there."

Eric turned and observed Sookie's eyes were closed and her lips were moving as she silently counted. Again he wondered if she had taken anger management classes. He leaned in and heard her mumbling. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'll take care of this." He took her hand briefly, massaged her palm lightly before giving it a reassuring squeeze, and made his way to the entrance. He heard the security guard respond to the recent arrivals.

"Ladies, calling me names is not going to change my mind. The dog cannot come into the hospital." Eric's eyebrow shot up. Pam and Maxine brought Long Shadow to the hospital?

"Pam, I told you. It's no problem. I can wait out here with Long Shadow."

"No, Maxine. You should not have to stand outside in this hot weather." Eric heard Pam direct her next words to the security guard. "Since you are a guard, perhaps you would like to use our dog while we're in the hospital visiting? He could help you apprehend criminals?"

"Lady, this is a hospital. You know what kind of criminals come to the hospital?" He paused as Pam just gave him a blank stare. "Dead or dying criminals." The officer snickered. "I don't need your dog. You're lucky I let you stand here."

Pam curled her lip in anger. Turning away from the security guard, she finally noticed Eric. "Eric, thank goodness. Do you have some money to give this mall cop? I believe he's trying to shake us down for a bribe before he is willing—"

"Lady, you're lucky I don't arrest you," the guard interrupted.

"Pam. Maxine." Eric looked at the two women. "May I ask what possessed you to bring the dog to the hospital?"

Pam snorted. "We could not leave Long Shadow with the Douche Bag. We feared retaliation."

"Retaliation?"

"Yesterday's sweater incident. Do you not remember?"

Oh, right. That. Eric nearly snorted in laughter recalling the sweater incident. "Right."

"Eric," Maxine injected, "I offered to stay in the car with Long Shadow. I still can."

Eric nodded to Maxine and then turned to the security guard. "Officer, I have an 11-year old and a 12-year old sitting in the waiting room. Would it be possible to let them wait out here with their dog?"

"You're an actor, aren't you?" The guard gave Eric the once-over.

"Yes, I am," smiled Eric.

"Can I get an autograph?"

"Certainly."

"How about on a Ben Franklin?"

Confused, Eric repeated the guard's words. "On a Ben Franklin?"

Pam snorted derisively. "Benjamin Franklin. Eric you are acquainted with him. He is the patron saint of greedy mall cops."

"Pam," Eric was taking out his wallet. "Shut it. You've caused enough trouble."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Whatever."

Ten minutes later, Hoyt and Hunter were playing with Long Shadow by the ER entrance while Maxine had gone inside to sit with Sookie. Pam and Eric went for a brief walk towards the parking garage to avoid the prying eyes of Lattesta and Weiss.

Looking at the guardianship papers Pam had brought for him to sign, Eric had a question for Pam. "How did you get the notary to backdate the signatures?"

Pam looked at Eric like he was the village idiot. "Eric, where do you think all my Benjamin Franklins went?"

Eric just looked at her as they made their way back to the hospital.

An hour later, with all of Godric's paperwork finally completed, the group was able to leave the hospital. After some discussion about whether or not to eat out or just go home —they did have Long Shadow, after all —they decided to stop in at Merlotte's. Sam had a soft spot for dogs, even though he didn't have one. Shad would be safe tied out back by Sam's doublewide. Sookie claimed the keys to the Cabrio from Pam and got custody of the boys and Long Shadow. Everyone else —Pam, Eric, Maxine, Amelia, and Godric— settled into the Mercedes. The two paparazzi were to meet them at Merlotte's.

Amelia vaguely worried about Sam mentioning to Sookie the text 'Sookie' had sent him the previous day inviting him to stop by for a visit. _Oh, well_, Ame shrugged. Amelia figured she couldn't do anything about Sam. So instead she gave Godric's hand a squeeze. He turned away from looking out the window to smile at Amelia. She happily met his grin with one of her own.

Maxine, observing quietly, thought they were hands down the most adorable teen-age couple she'd ever seen. Remembering something, she called up to Pam, who was driving. "Pam, Godric's got a prescription. We should stop at the Wal-Mart. You remember how to get there?"

Pam nodded. "Yes, Maxine. Thank you for reminding me. Eric," Pam jerked her head gesturing towards Eric, "has been quite useless today."

Eric, in the meantime, was looking at his cell. He'd just gotten a text from Sookie. "Pam, for one, I am 'useful' enough to provide you with the lifestyle you've become accustomed to. Second, does Maxine know about the reporters?"

"Eric, I don't keep secrets from Maxine."

"Neither does the Muffin Man!" Maxine injected from the back seat. Eric turned a curious look towards Maxine.

Pam piped in. "A picture is worth a thousand words. Would you not agree, my red-headed friend?"

"Yes, I would."

"So, we shall just show Northman the video of Mr. Compton's movie audition."

It dawned on Eric that Pam and Maxine had been alone with Bill for hours. It seemed from Pam's self- satisfied grin, that it had been a productive afternoon. Maybe they would be rid the Douche Bag sooner rather than later. All things considered, losing that prick would definitely be a welcome change. Shifting gears, Eric decided it was time to follow up on Sookie's text. He turned around to face Amelia in the backseat.

"Amelia," Eric's voice startled the girl from her wondering imagination.

"Uh, yeah, Eric?"

"Do you know about the reporters?"

She hesitated. Did she? Long day. No, she didn't know anything about reporters. "No..." her voice trailed off, uncertainly.

Eric continued. "The man and woman who were sitting with us in the waiting room are from the magazine that wants to publish the article about me and your brother being a couple." He paused considering how best to explain it. "My boss made an agreement with them that they would pull the gay article if we allowed them to follow us, take photos, and interview us."

"Oh!"

"Now, I'm sure your sister does not want you speaking with them, but— and," Eric's eyes briefly met Maxine's, "I just wanted to make sure you understood. This nonsense about you two being married. Clarify you're not if they ask but do not offer up information. You're probably better off making yourself scarce when we get back to the house. I do not want your sister aggravated any more than she's already been. Tell the boys the same when we get back to the house. Discretely." Eric paused. "Do you understand?"

_Yeah_, Amelia thought. _Geez, who died and made you boss? _"Yes," Amelia replied.

"Good. There's one more thing. Godric is only 16. The studio was under the impression he was older. They realized they were wrong. I am now his legal guardian while he is in the United States."

Amelia's eyes shot wide open. Uh? What? Wow! "Does this mean he's gonna have to live with you?"

"Yes."

"Does this mean he's gonna live with us?"

Pause. Yes. "Yes."

"_Awesome_."

* * *

**AN: I do reply to reviews regularly but I keep forgetting that there's a whole population of folks I miss. So I'm going to take this opportunity to extend a big thanks to the anonymous readers, the readers who don't have FF accounts, and those who have their PMs shut off. THANK YOU! As a general thanks to everyone, as 'Return of the Stackhouse Six' winds down for the second time, I'd like to also say it's been fanfuckingtastic sharing the story with you guys! I can tell we'd have a lot of fun watching movies together! **

**:D**


	72. The Interview

**********Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**  


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Chapter Seventy-Two:**** The Interview**

Driving home from Shreveport late Tuesday afternoon, Tara struggled to keep her mind on the present.

Although she probably could get away with her daydream-filled drive—despite having not driven the roads in Bon Temps for more than a year, Tara handled the curves and dips like she'd never left —she figured she ought to keep her attention focused on the road ahead of her. But she found it difficult.

_I can't believe what's happened since yesterday,_ she thought.

The phone call with Frank the day before had gone well, as had the interview with Frank earlier that day. Hence the F Mott Associates company car Tara now drove.

Tara and JB's dinner Monday night had not exactly gone as Tara had planned. It was partly her fault. Thrilled to have secured a job interview, she was less than thrilled that it was with the first guy she'd ever slept with. She didn't think JB would be thrilled, either.

JB came by the house to pick her up just like he had said he would. They decided to check out the new place in Bossier City, the Lafayette Bar and Grill. The food had been good, but the restaurant's ambience wasn't nearly as exciting as Holly Cleary had made it sound. Holly had said the restaurant attracted the Shreveport television crowd and was often filled with celebrities and fun bunch of non-locals. Notwithstanding the fact that the Stackhouses seemed to have custody of Eric Northman and Pam Ravenscroft, and didn't need to go looking for Hollywood excitement—the place, Tara thought, was kind of dull.

JB was thrilled to hear that she had a job interview scheduled for Tuesday. She left out the part about it being for Frank Mott's company. She figured he'd be good about it, but she didn't want to bring it up unless it actually materialized into a job. JB knew he had nothing to worry about, so she didn't want to get herself second-guessing the night before a job interview. She figured, if it even came down to it—and honestly, it was a long shot—she would discuss it with JB if she actually needed to make a decision on whether or not to accept the job.

_Best laid plans_, Tara laughed at herself. In any event, Tara had nothing to complain about on her end. Things were decidedly much better from where they were yesterday.

Job? Check.

Car? Check. Technically a company car, it was Frank's spare. He kept it registered and insured and wrote it off as a business expense. So, he said it would be good for her to take it until she bought her own. At least this one would get driven regularly and he wouldn't have to pay for the extra garage spot at his apartment building in Shreveport.

Friend? Check. Seriously, Tara and Frank had always gotten along. Even when they had had disagreements, they were never serious. Their 'fights' were usually accompanied by laughter. Lots of laughter. So why had they broken up? Tara knew the main reason was just the fact that they'd been really _really _young when they dated.

Tara was still having a hard time getting over how terrific Frank looked! He'd had acne when they were younger but that appeared to be completely gone now.

Underneath a slightly different exterior, Tara had been pleased as punch to realize Frank was still the same old Frank. She had been a little worried that being a businessman and embroiled in behind-the-scenes Hollywood might have changed him. It hadn't. He was as smart and as funny as ever.

Tara recalled how nervous she had been just hours earlier. She feared they'd be so conscious of the fact that they were each other's 'firsts', there would be this strained undercurrent of tension when they met.

She should have known that with Frank that would not be the case.

As the car service dropped her off outside the office building in Shreveport, Tara attempted to calm her nerves. She took some comfort in the office location itself. It was an area of Shreveport she was relatively familiar with. The nicer section, it was nowhere near The Place Where People Go to Die. Although she'd never had reason to go into the building itself, it was a familiar site. An architecturally interesting, modern building, it was upscale with expensive decor. She even had to sign in at the security desk.

When she'd finally arrived at the 7th floor corporate office suite of F. Mott Associates, Tara was relieved to find that it was, similar to the rest of the building, comforting in its simplistic style. A neat plaque affixed on the wall informed visitors of the company name: F. Mott Associates. The wall of the office suite was an elegant glass panel and she could see mahogany wood and sophisticated midtones adorning the walls within.

Peeking inside at the receptionist's desk, she saw a man with his back towards her. Taking a deep breath and giving herself an internal pep talk, Tara opened the office door. At the sound of a gentle doorbell the man sitting behind the desk turned.

Frank.

Tara, startled, stood with a frozen smile on her face.

Frank seemed to be in shock too. Finally a wide grin settled on his face.

"Tara!" Getting up, he made his way from around the desk.

"Frank!"

Pulling her into the office, Frank grabbed her in a rather lecherous bear hug and went so far as to dip her, prompting her to giggle a little breathlessly. Suddenly he was thanking her.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Startled, Tara was laughing a bit breathlessly. What was he going on about? "Frank, what on earth are you thanking me for?"

"Taking my virginity, of course! How did you know? I LOVE SEX!" Frank's tone was thick with emotion as he hugged her. His face had never lost its serious look, but she knew he was kidding. This was his way of circumventing what could've been an awkward reunion.

Tara burst out laughing.

Frank continued. "No, I mean it. Really, I've been having the best time with it! I think in a few more years I'll even be good at it!"

So, with that greeting, Frank acknowledged their long ago sexual history and put it properly in its place. With _that _out of the way, Tara was able to get past her nervousness and fears of awkwardness. She and Frank had a fantastic time catching up. Frank explained the job. Tara thought it was very different from her last job but not in a bad way. She was surprised to realize that she might be required to travel out to LA on occasion. Time was often the deciding factor and even though the job was marketing Shreveport to filmmakers, if the filmmakers couldn't make it to Shreveport, F Mott Associates would bring Shreveport to them.

Although the travel aspect of the job surprised Tara, it wasn't a bad surprise. Despite her happiness at being home, Tara had had slight reservations about settling back into life at Bon Temps. After New Orleans and New York, she wondered if, once the novelty wore off, she might get bored. Now that she knew she would be traveling to LA once or twice a month, settling down in Bon Temps seemed less daunting.

Frank attempted to explain the job, the company, and the industry niche he had carved out for himself.

Tara was shocked to hear that there weren't really many by way of 'associates.' Frank had a lot of colleagues —independent consultants that he contracted with to fill in the gaps. Aside from herself—should she come onboard—the only other full-time staffer was a receptionist. A receptionist who had called in sick that morning. Hence, Frank sitting out front waiting her arrival.

Frank gave Tara a complete tour of the office suite—which she realized, while tastefully decorated, was not very big. It turned out that much of their activities—meetings, site visits, picking up permits, etc.—would be conducted off-site. The one thing that kind of bothered Tara was the fact that she'd be 'on-call' so to speak. She'd be given a 'crackberry' and she would be expected to check messages routinely "just in case."

They wrapped up the interview at a restaurant located on the first floor of the building. Frank had insisted as he was hungry and otherwise they'd be forced to cut the 'interview' short. Tara doubted he was _that _hungry but went along with the idea of lunch.

Over lunch, Frank proceeded to further explain the job and industry.

"So, you know, since New Orleans has been so slow to recover, the Louisiana film industry has moved to Shreveport."

"No, I didn't realize, but I'm not surprised. Maybe now that that inept jackass of a mayor is out of there, something good will start to happen," Tara shook her head as she finished her comment and took a forkful of jambalaya.

Frank laughed. Grinning appreciatively at Tara, he shook his head.

"You know, Tara, if you join the F Mott Associates team, you'll be working closely with political and government types," Frank said, a coy expression on his face.

Tara took another forkful of her jambalaya, glanced at Frank with an uncomprehending look on her face. All of a sudden, clarity struck.

"Oh! Oh, Frank," she started. "I know how to use my mouth filter!"

Frank just continued to watch her. A look of disbelief on his face, he started to shake his head.

Startled, Tara began to laugh. "No, seriously, Frank," Tara wiped her mouth with a napkin. "For fucks sake, Frank! You've met my family! If I didn't talk this way, I'm not sure they'd understand me!"

"Stackhouse Speak?"

"Something like that," she giggled.

"Ah, well. Maybe we'll sign you up for an anger management class. I'm sure they can teach you techniques. Counting. Visualization. Etc."

"All so I don't curse at work?"

"No, Tara, I'm fine with you cursing," Frank laughed and then paused. "Well, maybe I'd prefer it if you don't curse at me," his much-amused eyes met Tara's. "I just need for you to be quiet on the opinions. Especially when the politicos are involved. Also the Hollywood types. If you have opinions—like if you think Russell Edgington is running amok and his scripts are sending the women's movement back 50 years—you need to keep that stuff to yourself. Got it?"

"Yeah, I guess I do." Tara nodded thoughtfully. "You know something? You just reminded me. Sookie took an anger management class last year. I think it's actually," eyes widened, Tara lowered her voice, "had a bad effect."

Frank's face took on a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"She got herself engaged to this complete," Tara shook her head, seeming speechless, searching for the right word, "tool. This horrible douche bag. He's self-absorbed. Arrogant. Conceited. Rude. Sanctimonious. A fucking obnoxious prick." Tara, finally fell silent, shaking her head.

Frank burst out laughing. "So, I guess you don't care for him?"

"My God, Frank, you have no idea!" Tara was shaking her head, eyes wide, an incredulous look on her face. "I never—_EVER_—would have thought Sookie would manage to find someone worse than Quinn. With this guy, I think she has."

"Quinn?" Frank looked questioning. "Was that the one with the weird...fetish?"

"The sick fuck addicted to licking bloody wounds?" Tara nodded her head. "Yep, that's Quinn. I mean, as fucked up as that was, Quinn was just a stupid himbo. With the musclehead and his barely there neck. At least, you could somewhat forgive him. He's obviously got a disorder—"

"Sanguinarianism " Frank interrupted.

"What?"

"That's what that fetish is called. Sanguinarianism."

"How the hell," Tara let out a slightly uncomfortable laugh, "do you know _that_?"

Frank, grinning, shrugged. "I've been working on the periphery of Hollywood for nearly five years. You learn stuff."

Tara scrunched her face, digesting this new information. "Well, all the more to support what I'm saying. Quinn's sick. Bill's a jackass."

"She's definitely marrying this guy?"

"I fucking hope not," she leaned in and lowered her voice. "He's nasty to the kids. You believe that? On top of everything else, he's nasty to the kids!" Tara shook her head in disbelief. "What kind of a _disgusting __fucking asshat _is nasty to orphans?"

So Tara's lunch with Frank progressed in a positive way. Frank was interested to hear about the Stackhouse family's unplanned reunion back at the farm the prior week. He was very interested to hear that Eric Northman and Pam Ravenscroft were now part of the family. He was shocked to hear that Eric was buying a stake of the Stackhouse farm.

"That's incredible. I guess I've been around it long enough to not be too surprised—in general by the stuff the Hollywood folks do. But Eric Northman's pretty —hm, how do I say this?— not Hollywood. Pretty stand-up guy. Arrogant. But that's necessary for survival in the business," Frank paused and gave Tara a thoughtful look. "Wonder what's going on with him?"

Tara bit her lower lip, in a way reminiscent of Sookie's.

"Tara?" Frank started to chortle. "I can tell you've got something you want to say. You know..." His words trailed off as he continued to stare at her.

In response, Tara attempted to avert her eyes and keep her lips held tightly shut.

"You know, in addition to the Stackhouse Potty Mouth, you've also got the Stackhouse Poker Face," he continued to laugh. "You guys are not allowed in Vegas. Seriously. Your face is all puffed out. You're obviously dying to tell me something."

Tara, in the meantime, had chipmunk cheeks. She shook her head 'no.'

"Tara...C'mon, Tara. You know you want to tell me. Tell your new boss your big secret..."

Tara's eyes widened in surprise. Her mouth unpuffed. "I've got a job?" Her words came out in a shocked whisper.

Frank nodded. "Of course," he shrugged. "I figured you knew that."

"Ooh! I've got a job!" This time Tara emitted a high-pitched squeal. "I'm sorry."

Frank snickered. "I guess I should have clarified that earlier. Notwithstanding the fact that I _know _you," Frank emphasized the word know and made a lecherous play smile. Tara slanted her eyes suspiciously. "No, kidding. Not that I know you that way! Aside from our handful of sexual encounters- what? Seven or eight years ago? Your experience in New York is a fit. I know it's not 100% but you have the basic know-how. You have the education. I know I can trust you. And I know _you_," his emphasis was on the 'you' this time. "It can be a tough industry. I trust that you'll watch my back."

"Of course, Frank," Tara smiled. "Wow! I've got a job. This is awesome."

"Yeah, and you managed to totally get me off topic. Where were we?...Oh, I remember. I was asking you why Eric Northman and Pam Ravenscroft are living at your house?"

"Uh, well, I'm not exactly sure," Tara bit her lip. "I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to know," she started to laugh, "but Sook knows I'm not stupid. There seems to be a flirtation going on between her and Eric. All I can say is if it gets that jackass away from the kids and away from me, go for it! I haven't spent much time with Eric but he seems nice," she shrugged, "for Hollywood, I guess. Pam's a piece of work but she seems to be in our corner. Ame adores her and I trust Ame's instincts."

Frank nodded. Interesting. Eric Northman and Sookie Stackhouse. Eric Northman and Pam Ravenscroft setting up housekeeping with the Stackhouses. If he didn't know them all, he'd think it was a trumped up story for publicity.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Tara finished her jambalaya. Frank took note of something for the first time. A wry smile found its way to his face.

"By the way, I see that congratulations are in order." Tara looked up at his words. Frank raised his brows and made a hand gesture towards her engagement ring.

Tara felt herself grow warm. "Yeah," she met Frank's eyes. "You remember JB?"

"How could I forget JB?"

Tara looked at her new boss. His voice seemed to tighten a little.

"Yeah, well," she decided to ignore the slight change in his expression. "We reconnected and, well, we reconnected. He asked me to marry him on Saturday. I said yes. We're good together."

Frank let out a sigh. He looked away for a second as Tara turned her eyes downward. Bringing his gaze back to her, he continued.

"Hey, as long as you're happy. I'm anxious to having you start and I need you to be settled," he paused "and happy." Suddenly Frank smiled and he was the same old Frank again.

Tara leaned over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh, I am. I am. Believe me. Happy as a clam. Don't have to worry about me going anywhere. Except maybe prison after I kill the jackass who came to dinner." Tara laughed.

Recalling the conversation as she made her way back to JB's, Tara was pleased that she and Frank had left things on a good note. Truthfully, their breakup had been mutual. _It was so long ago_. While she thought Frank's response to learning she was engaged to JB a little odd, she figured it likely had to do with him, rather than her. She figured maybe he'd just broken up with someone and Tara getting married was hitting him a little close to home. She didn't think it could be anything else.

_After all this time, there's no way in hell Frank Mott has anything other than friend feelings towards me, _thought Tara.

Assessing her accomplishments of the past week, Tara decided it was time for a little patting herself on the back. A bit of a wreck on Friday, she'd managed to hold it together well enough to do what needed to be done and then some.

So, in less than a week's time, Tara had a place to live; a fiancé; her family; a job. Now, thanks to Frank and his company she even had a car. Sure it was a Ford, but beggars can't be choosers. It had been a really really good day.

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**AN: Joshua Jackson is Frank Mott. Check FF link for full cast. Thanks for reading!**

**Funniest Stackhouse Six Character: Don't forget to vote. Pam is winning with 26 but Hunter is not that far behind with 19. Very important poll. LMAO. :)**

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Contest Announcement**

**_Indie Fic Contest_. Supes are supes, humans are humans. Aside from this anything goes! Original stories, characters, plots. **

**_Snarky Sidekick Contest_. Pam. More Pam. You know what I say: Pam's like cowbell. You can never have too much Pam. Pam Wanted. **

******Check my Favorite Authors for information on both contests! **


	73. The One at WalMart

**********Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**  


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**Chapter Seventy-Three: The One at Wal-Mart**

Jason was on his way home. He was a little grimy but otherwise felt good having put in a day's work. He'd worked plenty in the Navy but he hadn't worked on the road crew in four years. He appreciated the comfortable rhythm a person could get into after doing a few hours of straight manual labor.

It had been a busy day out on the crew. They'd had to dig several culvert ditches off Main Street. It was terrific hanging with his old friends again. Although even Jason had to admit Dov Beck, with his womanizing ways, and Rene Lenier, with multiple arrests for beating up on his girlfriend, didn't really make them seem like the best company to keep. But they were the folks he'd be hanging with if he continued to work on the road crew.

Jason wondered if maybe he shouldn't look into going back to school. He could maybe do something with surveying or engineering or mechanical work. But he knew he had to be responsible for taking care of the kids. He wasn't sure he could work and go to school. He wasn't the best at multitasking. Sook was terrific at multitasking.

As his thoughts turned to his sister, he found himself recalling the early part of his day. Excited to be going to work, he'd gotten up plenty early. On his way out the door, Pam and Eric had asked him if he wanted to sit in on their phone conversation with their attorney. Jason told them no, he didn't get on well with lawyers as a general rule. Of course, he was thinking more like the old Jase, not the new and improved Jase, but still, old habits die hard.

Also, if he was honest with himself, he didn't really feel like dwelling on the whole gay thing.

Of course, Jason was as tolerant as they come—without, of course, actually being gay himself. He always wore the rainbow pin whenever Amelia told him to. He never lost his shit, no matter what Amelia said. He was fine with all the folks he'd met—there were, as everyone who heard the news knew, a few gays in the military after all. Jason figured it was all good. To each his own. It takes all kinds. He knew they were just sayings, but he figured they fit well enough.

Jason hadn't given much thought to the whole gay marriage debate, but if someone asked him, he'd probably shrug and say, let the gays marry. A lot of folks who marry get divorced anyway. If they wanted to step in and say it wasn't right for some folks to marry, maybe being gay wasn't the thing to look at but level of commitment or something like that.

_Shoot some folks marry lots! _Jason reflected. _Heck, that old geezer on that channel the Douche Bag keeps putting on—Larry King—guy's like 100 years old and he's been married like 8 times!_

Jase didn't understand why any girl would saddle herself with that wizened old crypt-keeper.

_Heck, guy looks like the vampire from that old artsy German flick I saw while I was overseas! What was the movie called? Nos-for-something...Nosferatu!_

Yeah, if right wingers wanted to bitch and moan about gays making a mockery of the institution of marriage, Jase would have to say there were a whole heck of a lot of non-gays—like Larry King or that greedy old actress with all the diamonds —what was her name? Think Jase, think. Aw, that's right. Elizabeth Taylor. Jason had never seen her in any movies. He'd seen her picture in a lot of magazines, though. He thought she might have adopted Michael Jackson or something like that.

Despite the fact that he was looking forward to getting home and showering, Jason turned the car into the parking lot of the Super Wal-Mart. He'd promised Pam that he'd stop in and pick up some food staples. He checked his pocket to make sure he still had the list. He didn't know what half the stuff was. He figured that's why she'd asked him to pick them up. Sook would've probably taken one look at the list and said 'no.'

Jason appreciated that about his sister—actually both of them, well, all three of them, really. The not-taking- any-nonsense thing. None of 'em were pushovers. It was really obvious in Sookie. Most developed? Maybe it was because she was the oldest. She'd had the most stuff to deal with. The house bills and stuff. Their mother's medical stuff. Kids' school stuff.

The Passat safely parked far away from other vehicles, Jason got out and walked over to the cart corral to collect a shopping cart. He was startled when he heard his name.

"Jase?"

Jason looked up. It was Michele Schubert. They'd last seen each other at the DuRones party on Sunday.

_Fuck _thought Jason. _Was that really just two days ago?_

"Hey, Michele. How you doin,' darling?"

"I'm good, Jase. Today's Tuesday. Makes tomorrow Hump Day and weekend's right around the corner. Can't complain about that."

"No sirree," Jason agreed. "Definitely can't complain about that."

Eying Michele up and down, Jason was struck once more by how well she filled out her shirt and jeans. Her dark hair was down, flowing past her shoulders.

"Stackhouse, you done?"

"Huh? What's that, Michele?"

"You done eye-fucking me?"

Jason whistled in response. "You kiss your mama with that mouth?"

"No. My mama's dead. Same as yours."

"Oh, yeah," Jason could have kicked himself. How'd he forget that? "Shoot, yeah. I knew that. Sorry, Michele. Forgive me?"

Michele looked at Jason, her face divulging nothing. "Sure, Jase. Not a big deal," Michele cracked a grin. "I know you just got back after fighting for our country. Hell, I have a hard time keeping up on everything and I never leave Bon Temps," she laughed.

"Aw, well," Jason looked away. Heck, was Jason Corbett Stackhouse tongue-tied? "I guess there's some folks you wanna make a good impression on. And remembering who's dead in their family is one way to show you care."

Michele laughed at that. "I reckon so." Still smiling, she changed the subject. "So, I saw Crystal Norris earlier today..."

Jason winced as he heard the name uttered from her lips. "Yeah? You out in Hotshot?"

"No," Michele laughed. "You know better than that, Jason Stackhouse. I bumped into her at the Target."

Jason nodded.

"Anyway," Michele continued. "She said you're in love with Eric Northman and you came out while you were in the Navy because that's what happens to guys in the Navy. That's why there's a song about it."

Jason was catching flies. Michele let out a bark of laughter.

"Close your mouth, Stackhouse," she lifted his chin shut. "I said that's what Crystal said. I didn't say I believed her."

"Don't!" Jason barked. "She's crazy. And I'm not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, of course."

"Of course."

"If you're gay, you should go around and be gay. If you're not gay, you should go around and be not gay."

"Uh-huh," Michele nodded.

"But if you're not gay, it's unfair of folks goin' around sayin' you are gay," Jason paused as he looked at Michele, "'cos I can't imagine a worse cockblock than that!"

Michele, startled by Jason's candor, laughed. "Jason Stackhouse, you are too much!"

"Yes, yes, I am! If you mean I'm too much of a manly-uh-masculine woman-appreciating man, I gotta agree with you on that! That's exactly what I am!"

"All right. Point taken." Michele fixed her sunglasses atop her head. "So why is the queen of Hotshot going around convinced you're gay?"

"Oh, I got stuck out there. Seemed like the only way to get out at the time." Michele didn't say a word at first. The incredulous look on her face said it all.

"Jason, Crystal had you hog-tied to deliver and the only way you saw to escape was to pretend you were gay?"

Jason smiled a wide shit-eating grin. Smart girl. She got it completely. "Yeah! Exactly!"

"Jason Stackhouse, that's the craziest fucking thing I've ever heard!" Michele rolled her eyes.

_Shoot! She didn't get it after all._

"Uh, okay," Jason figured he'd have to explain further. "So, the kids—you know—got into a fight with Crystal's son Calvin. And, well, I brought them over to apologize. Eric—you know has been staying with us. He came with us out to Hotshot to help pave things over with Crystal." Jason ran his fingers through his hair. "But, I guess it went over too well. Tanya was there too. Before you know it they're offering 'twoffers' and, well, it was pretty fucking disgusting. Heck, we had the kids with us, for crying out loud. Finally, Crystal misunderstood something that was said. She got it in her head that Eric and I were a couple and," Jason shrugged, "we figured they'd let up if they figured we were 100% not interested in them, so we let them keep thinking it..." His voice trailed off.

"Uh-huh," Michele nodded. "Jase, you know that's crazy, right?" Jason let out a burst of laughter.

"Michele, you don't know much about my family, do you?" It was Michele's turn to laugh.

"Well, you've got a commune over on Hummingbird Lane," Jason winced at her words. "Are you guys organized as a religion?" Michele was still laughing. "You can probably get some tax write-offs if you are, you know."

Michele could barely finish her sentence as she was laughing so hard. Jason stood beside her nodding, a smile on his face.

"All right, all right." Jason looked at Michele. She had laugh lines around her eyes. Married and divorced, Michele was a few years older than Jason. She was still married when Jason had left for the Navy. He'd always thought she seemed like a fun gal. He'd known Holly Cleary forever. He figured if anything was meant to happen between him and Holly, it would've happened by now. He decided to just ask Michele out.

"Hey, Michele. How'd you like to have dinner with me tonight? We could maybe head over to Merlotte's?"

Before Michele had a chance to respond to Jason's invitation, a horn blared behind them. Suddenly a Mercedes pulled up alongside the couple. The tinted driver side window lowered to reveal a familiar face.

"Hey, sailor. Need a ride?"

"Uh, no." Jason laughed. He turned to Michele. "Michele, you remember Pam from the DuRones' party. Eric, of course." He peered into the car.

"Hey Eric."

"Jason." Eric nodded.

Maxine rolled down her window. Jason bent down to check out who was sitting in the back.

"Hey, Maxine. Ame."

"Hi Jason." Maxine greeted him.

"Jase!" Amelia called out.

Taking note of the new addition, he jokingly asked the obvious question.

"Did we get another family member?"

Maxine nodded with a slight smile. Amelia barely registered her brother's words, as she was once again focused on Godric.

Pam decided to answer.

"It's a rather interesting story. I guess ultimately the answer would be 'yes.'" She said with a shrug. Her attention focused on Jason and his friend, Pam decided to have a little fun.

"Jason, I believe it may be time for me to collect my Jason Stackhouse IOU. Perhaps tonight?" She asked suggestively, licking her lower lip.

"Uh, I ...uh...tonight?" Jason, speechless, looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Michele went from conducting a quiet appraisal of Pam to giving Jason a thoughtful look.

Eric thought interrupting would be the right thing to do at that point.

"Pay no mind to Pam, Jason. We're actually heading over to," Eric paused, realizing he'd forgotten the name of the restaurant. "Amelia?"

"Merlotte's!" The girl supplied.

"Thank you." Turning back to Jason, he continued. "We are meeting Sookie and the boys at Merlotte's."

The sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard from the back seat. "And..." Maxine prodded.

"Right." Eric nodded a silent 'thank you' to Maxine. "We're also meeting the reporters. In lieu of the fabricated lies, we are allowing them access to us for a day so that they can write a real story."

Pam cleared her throat. "So, if you'd like to demonstrate your proclivity for heterosexuality, Jason, tonight would be a good time. I'd be happy to help. I like to pitch in when needed." Pam said this with an arched brow.

"Pam..." Eric's tone held an unspoken threat.

"Eric." Pam's response held an equally veiled warning tone. "I don't see how this is your business."

Eric glared at his friend. "Considering everything—the press, Bill, Godric—can't you keep it in your pants for a while longer?"

Pam shot daggers at Eric. "Fine."

Jason, in the meantime, had been observing all this silently from the sidelines. As an uneasy silence followed Eric and Pam's standoff, Jason figured he might as well find out a bit more.

"So, Sook's okay with the reporter thing?"

"She is far from happy with it, but she recognizes it's ultimately the best option we have. Notwithstanding Pam's lewd jokes, if you were to join us for dinner, it would allow you to make an impression on the reporters," Eric's eyes met Jason's. "It might actually not be a bad idea."

Jason was thinking. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Uh, yeah," he nodded. "Everyone knows me down at Merlotte's. They know —well, heck, I've been with damn near most of the girls in Bon Temps—"

Suddenly someone coughed.

_Heck_, thought Jason. _Michele_.

"Uh, Michele," he faced her. "Sorry. Kind of got all involved. You understand the reporter thing?"

"Pam, we should get going inside" Maxine injected. "We may have to leave the prescription and come back after dinner."

Pam frowned. "Yes, Maxine. You are right." She refocused her attention on Jason. "So join us if you wish. We want to make a favorable impression prior to returning to the house. The Douche Bag is a wild card. We do not know in which direction his insolence and..."

Amelia called up from the back. "Pam, just call it 'douchey dust.' It's like fairy dust, only it's douchyness. That's what Hunt calls it."

Pam, an amazed smile on her face, turned to face Amelia and Maxine. "Amelia! That is brilliant! Maxine, did you hear that?" The man truly was a fairy. A pixie. Perhaps he really was Peter Pan.

"I certainly did. It seems to be unanimous. Sometimes people's true colors just come through. No matter what." Maxine nodded, eyes wide, smiling. It was the cosmic energy of the universe. Like karma.

Pam nodded back at Maxine. "Yes. Yes." Facing forward once more, Pam directed her next words to Jason and his companion. "Well, Jason, you know where we will be, if you wish to join us and prove your heterosexuality," she nodded. "Michele, it was good seeing you again. Perhaps we shall see you again soon."

"Yeah," _not fucking likely _thought Michele. "Sure," she peered inside. "Eric, Maxine, Amelia. Good seeing you all again."

With final goodbyes behind them, Pam put the Mercedes in gear and the group continued on to find a parking spot close to the store entrance. Jason and Michele watched the car pull away.

Jason did a mental backtracking to figure out where they'd been before Pam had pulled up. That's right. Dinner.

"So, Michele," Jason gave her one of his panty-melting grins, "what's the final word on dinner?" The excitement on his face gave way to puzzlement as Michele just watched him silently. It didn't take long for him to realize Michele wasn't in any hurry to give him the answer he was hoping for. Taking a guess at the reason behind her hesitance, Jason offered an alternate plan. "We don't need to hang with my crazy family. We can go somewhere else. There's a fun new place —Lafayette Bar and Grill. It's in Bossier City. We could leave your car here. I could drive—"

Jason stopped talking as he saw Michele was shaking her head.

"No, Jase." She met his gaze. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."

What? "What? Why not, Michele? What—?" Suddenly he got it. Pam. "Michele, there ain't nothing between me and Pam. She just is ...uh...high-spirited. She likes to flirt is all."

Michele's face was still.

Jason could not believe the turn this had taken. "Michele, you don't gotta worry about Pam! Heck, she doesn't even like guys! She's a Lesbian!"

Michele, her lips turned downward, just looked at Jason.

"Jase, I saw how she was looking at you! I don't think I've ever seen a woman leer before! And what's this IOU business?"

"Ah, it's a house joke. Uh, she and Eric got a handle on my number pretty quick. When we needed some help from Holly, we told her she got a Jason IOU."

Michele continued to look at Jason. Her gaze was speculative. "I'm not sure that explanation helps much, Jase."

"Michele! C'mon. Give me a chance. I just got back last week. I'm a changed man. I am. But no one realizes it yet."

"Pam—."

"Is a Lesbian!"

"Jason, I know what I saw. Maybe she goes 60/40. Maybe she goes 75/25. I don't know. But a part of that woman likes guys and the part of her that likes guys likes you!"

"No, Michele," _that's crazy_, "that's crazy."

"Is it?" Michele could see the wheels were turning. She liked Jason but she wasn't interested in getting herself involved in some weird love triangle with a Hollywood she-devil. Even if she was a lipstick Lesbian-of-convenience or whatever the hell she fancied herself.

"Listen to me, Jason. I know what I'm talking about. She is interested in you," Michele said this emphatically. It was, in her mind, beyond discussion. "I'm not blind. And I'm not stupid. You figure this out, maybe we can go out sometime. But I'm not gonna walk into something when you're not even sure what's going on behind door #2 and you're living in the same house with her." Michele shrugged. "I'm not a fool. I'm 32. I'm not some young thing. I like to think I learn from my mistakes and I don't keep repeating them."

Jason, still feeling slightly dumbfounded, was beginning to get a better grasp of what was going on. He couldn't really fault Michele. From her perspective, it was pretty cut-and-dried. Unfortunately, it was still a fucking mystery of the universe on his end. What the fuck?

"I'm gonna get on with my shopping, Jase." Michele stretched up and kissed his cheek. "Don't be a stranger. Once you've got your head out of your ass."

Michele smiled and was gone.

Jason stood in the Wal-Mart parking lot by the cart corral for a full ten minutes after Michele had disappeared into the store. He decided he didn't want to risk seeing her in the store, so he walked back to his car.

Once in his car, he just sat for a bit. Not feeling like going home, not feeling like shopping, he figured he'd just head over to Merlotte's.

Maybe he could figure out what the fuck the deal was with Pam.

* * *

**AN: Bombs in the garden anyone? Hee-hee. Review to your heart's content. Me trying to stop it at 1500 is pretty high-handed. I'll figure out how to even out the review count later.**

**Dedicated: To the late Elizabeth Taylor and the retired Larry King. When this originally posted, both were still around. I thought I'd leave them in for posterity.**


	74. Where Everybody Knows Your Name

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Four: ****Where Everybody Knows Your Name**

Finally free from the hospital, Sookie walked over to the Cabrio with the boys and Long Shadow. Once at the car, she unlocked the doors and stood there expectantly waiting for the troops to pile in. Unfortunately, she stood there alone.

Turning, Sookie looked around for Hoyt and Hunt. She spotted them a few cars behind her. One of them had somehow acquired a rubber glove from one of the hospital aides. They had blown it up like a balloon and were using it to hit the dog's butt. The stupid dog, feeling something on his butt, kept turning around to find it. Always too slow, Long Shadow was repeatedly surprised to find nothing there by the time he looked.

_Yep, dog's a moron_, Sookie shook her head. _I am too if I think there's a chance in hell we'll manage a quiet evening at home with this crew_.

"Hey, you two! Quit your fu—" Sookie, taking note for the first time that Weiss and Lattesta were only a few yards away, caught herself. "Boys, quit your fooling around. You can play with Long Shadow when we get home." She smiled her tight Crazy Sookie smile. "C'mon. Get in the car. Please."

Hearing the tension in their sister's voice, the two boys ceased their play and quickly and quietly got into the car. Long Shadow followed.

Belting herself in, Sookie continued to ponder how to make the evening work. She realized that perhaps her two brothers had actually inadvertently hit upon the best alternative they had.

_Heck, playing with the dog may not be a bad idea_, Sookie thought. _We should all just play with the fucking dog. Then maybe we can play chess and look at vacation photos. Maybe Maxine's got some stories from her last AARP tour. We should show these reporters the most boring fucking time they've ever seen in their goddamn lives._

She giggled as she put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

"What's so funny?" Hunter couldn't let anything pass him.

"Nothing you'd find funny."

"She means it's grown up humor, Hunt." Hoyt explained for his younger brother.

"Aw, I know what she means. I get plenty of grownup humor. Felipe lets me stay up and watch Chris Rock with him on Comedy Central."

Sookie's eyes opened wide as she made a right turn.

What the fuck is up with Felipe and Linda? She couldn't believe what she'd heard from the boys about those two. It had crossed her mind more than once in the past week that maybe Aunt Linda had reason to be so worried about Child Services snooping around. Sookie decided to not think about Baby Hadley for the moment. She had enough to deal with just getting through dinner and the next 21 hours.

Sookie knew, realistically, that between her siblings, Bill, and Pam, not to mention, the latest addition to the family, Godric, the best shot she had of keeping the troops under control was keeping them out in public. That's why she'd pushed the idea of having dinner at Merlotte's.

Although, truth be told, Sookie was looking forward to seeing Sam too. There was something so calming and reassuring about him. He was such a solid, steadfast character. When everything else was going nuts, his had always been the voice of clarity and reason. Sookie had long viewed Sam as the older brother she never had. That's why it had been so awkward whenever Sam had gone through one of his phases where he fancied himself interested in her. Sookie knew it wouldn't work. She just didn't — and was pretty sure she couldn't ever — see Sam that way. It was one of the things she was slightly concerned about regarding the move back. She had a fear in the back of her mind that Sam might want to initiate something once he found out she was no longer engaged. She sighed. She didn't think he would approve of the whole falling-into-a-relationship-with-the-gorgeous-Hollywood-actor-who-drove-your-brothers-home thing.

_Yep_, she thought. _Definitely not gonna make Sam's recommended top ten ways to meet potential dates. _She sniggered. "What's so funny?"

Sookie threw a quick glance over her shoulder at her youngest brother and gave him the 'shut up' look.

A few minutes later, Sookie turned the Cabrio into Merlotte's parking lot. Once they'd climbed out of the car, Sookie just stood for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts.

"We gonna eat or stand here? I'm hungry."

Sookie came out of her reverie to realize Hunter had just asked her a question. The two boys were waiting impatiently with Long Shadow. She realized the reporters' car was pulling into the parking lot. She made eye contact with Sara Weiss and pointed at the dog and then towards the side of the restaurant. Weiss seemed to understand the unspoken message that they needed to secure the dog out back but that they'd meet up inside.

"Okay. C'mon, guys." Sookie started to walk along the side of Merlotte's.

"Where we goin', Sook?"

"We're tying Long Shadow up to Sam's place. We can't bring him in the restaurant."

"Aw, Sook!" Hunter objected. "If we brought him in, we could play with him and we wouldn't have to talk to the reporters!"

Sookie raised a brow. Sometimes she swore her youngest brother was a mind reader.

Hoyt was nodding. "Yeah, we had him in there before."

Sookie shook her head. "No. The place was closed that time and Sam was babysitting you. People are eating in there now and they don't want somebody's dog sniffing around and begging for food. We're tying him in the back." Considering, Sookie thought she had a stroke of brilliance. "We can take turns coming out with you two to check on him."

_Yeah, I'll happily stand out here and stare at the dog for an hour, _she thought. _Eric and Pam can handle the paparazzi._

Hoyt took care of securing the leash to Sam's doublewide.

"Hoyt, that leash secured? C'mon. We'll bring him water in a few minutes. We'll bring food out too."

"Okay," Hoyt agreed.

The two teacup Stackhouses followed their older sister towards the restaurant's back door. Just before they actually stepped into the building, Sookie stopped. She turned around the face them.

"Hoyt," she paused, "Hunter." She looked at each of them in turn. They froze. This didn't sound good.

"Yeah?" Hoyt replied tentatively.

"What exactly did Eric tell you two about the reporters?"

"Uh, he told us they were reporters and to watch the cussing." Hoyt offered.

"Yeah, then he just said try not to talk at all in front of them." Hunter recalled.

Sookie rolled her eyes. "Listen. They wrote an article about us, especially about your visit to Hotshot. They got all the details wrong —"

"Yeah, 'cos Jase isn't gay."

"Yeah. They got more than that wrong but you get the idea. So, to get them to write a different article we had to agree to let them hang out with us and ask the adults questions. I'm gonna make sure they don't ask you guys anything. I'd prefer you watch what you say and don't talk about certain things."

"Like what?"

Jesus H. Christ. Like what? Like everything.

"Don 't say anything about how or when you met Eric. Nothing about him driving you home. Nothing about running away from Aunt Linda's. Nothing about taking Greyhound by yourself. Nothing about Ame putting a spell on Cal. Nothing about Ame being a witch. Nothing about going to Hotshot. Nothing about fighting with wiggers. Nothing about Ame pretending to be married. Nothing about her being a Lesbian." Sookie smiled grimly. Long fucking list. Fuck.

"Oh, and nothing about the tenants. Or Felipe." Fuck. "Or Bill."

"Heck, Sook. What can we talk about?"

A thoughtful expression on her face, Sookie contemplated that for a bit.

"You can talk about school. Your treehouse. Long Shadow. And video games. Movies. That's it."

"Okay," Hoyt replied while Hunter merely shrugged.

"Good. Now let's go in. Just focus on eating. You two can come out here and watch Shad after you're done. How's the battery on your phone, Hoyt?"

Hoyt pulled his iPhone out. "Okay."

"Good. C'mon. Let's go in."

Walking into Merlotte's, the first person they encountered was Terry Bellefleur who worked there part-time.

"Hi, Terry!" Sookie leaned over and gave him a hug.

The two boys followed suit.

"Hi, Sookie." Terry threw his arms around her. He nodded greetings to the two boys. "Hoyt. Hunter"

"Hey, Terry." This from Hoyt.

"Hi." This from Hunter.

Pulling out of his bear hug, Sookie figured it was time to clear the air about a few things.

"Hey, thanks for taking such good care of Long Shadow while we were gone."

"Aw, sure, Sook. Was real good having the company. Nothing happened to him, too. Missed him this past week. Thinking of getting a new dog."

"Terry, That's terrific!" Hoyt thought that was a good idea.

"Yeah, pretty cool." Hunter seconded it.

"Yeah, I think so too," Terry nodded. "Figure it's about time."

"That's real good, Terry." Sookie felt a little blindsided. She had been all ready to lecture Terry on not driving the kids anywhere, but he was so damn happy at the idea of getting a new dog, she just couldn't. "Real good, Terry. Sam here?"

"No," Terry shook his head. "Me, Arlene, Charlsie, and D'Eriq. Sam had some errands. Left about twenty minutes ago. Said he'd be back in a couple of hours."

"Oh, okay," Sookie nodded. Truthfully, after thinking it over, it was probably for the best that Sam wasn't there. She didn't feel like trying to explain things to him, especially with reporters nearby. She turned her attention to the boys.

"C'mon, guys. Let's get a bowl of water for Long Shadow and then go grab a table."

Once a water bowl had been laid out for the dog, Sookie and the two boys went into the dining area. Merlotte's wasn't anything special. It was family-style restaurant with a bar. They didn't do daiquiris and they only had ten beers on tap. No cider. The wine was usually bad. The food was comfort food, through and through. Last she knew, the most recent songs on the old jukebox were from four years earlier, while the oldest dated to Elvis's heyday. It was jeans and plaid and pool tables and dartboards. Sookie was pleased that the place hadn't changed in the past year. Seeing the two reporters sitting in a booth already, she lead the boys over to their table. She made it about halfway there before someone accosted her.

"Hey, Sug!" Before Sooke knew what hit her, she was caught up in a hug.

"Hey, Arlene," she greeted her former coworker.

"Heard you all were back. Was away on Sunday. Took Coby and Lisa to see their grandma. Would've loved to made the DuRones party." She lowered her voice. "They should really let folks know in advance. I think it's because," Arlene stopped talking and made the universal swigging-from-a-bottle hand gesture.

Sookie frowned. "Arlene," Sookie hissed. "You shouldn't be spreading gossip like that." Sookie suddenly had a cold feeling tingle down her back. Arlene was the Town's biggest gossip, bar none. She grabbed Arlene's hand and pulled her back towards the kitchen.

"Sook! What's matter, hon?"

"Arlene, I just gotta tell you something. You see those folks we're eating with are reporters. We're gonna have a celebrity joining us—"

"Oh my God! Who, Sook? Who?"

"Uh. Do you know who Eric Northman is?"

Arlene's eyes widened in shock. Her too-red hair swayed as her head jerked back in shock. "Holy Baby Jesus!" Arlene just stared at Sookie. "Holly Cleary said she saw him at the DuRones, but I figured somebody just told her that was him trying to get in her pants and she didn't figure it out." She leaned in closer. "Holly's not terribly bright," she whispered.

Sookie frowned. Arlene telling her Holly wasn't bright was the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black. "No, Arlene. Holly got it right. He's a..." _Geez, this is awkward_, "friend and he and another friend, Pam Ravenscroft, are staying with us." _There. That's all you're getting, Arlene. _

"Pam Ravenscroft? Is she an actress? I think her name's familiar."

Sookie supposed it was possible Pam had acted before switching to behind-the-scenes, but she personally hadn't had a chance to have any "getting to know you" one-on-ones with Pam. The idea of it made her want to laugh out loud.

"She's Eric's manager. She might've acted before doing that," Sookie shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh," Arlene nodded. "I'll figure it out. So they're staying at your place?" Suddenly Arlene's mouth fell open. "Sookie, you think he might wanna have," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "some fun with a decent, God-fearing woman?"

Sookie stared at Arlene. It took all her willpower not to slap her across her God-fearing face. "Arlene, uh, no!" Sookie couldn't believe it. Arlene was ready to just proposition Eric and she hadn't even met him. He could saunter in and be a rude, arrogant jackass and Arlene was still ready to jump his bones. Fucking bitch. "Besides, aren't you seeing somebody?"

"Yeah," Arlene answered sullenly.

Sookie put her Crazy Sookie smile on her face. This was the kind of crap about Bon Temps she could do without. Some of the locals were just out of their fucking minds.

"Anyway, Arlene, we have another five joining us."

"Oh, okay."

They decided on how best to set up the tables and Sookie finally sat after helping Arlene push two more tables next to the booth. She stifled a giggle as she saw the surprised look on Tom Lattesta's face as her two brothers sat in the booth with the two reporters. As she sat, she heard her phone buzz. Pulling it out, she saw that it was a text from Eric.

**E: Finishing at store getting Godric's perscription. Be there shortly. Jason may join us.**

THANK GOD! She typed up a quick "okay hurry up" reply before tucking her phone back into her bag. Sookie wondered how they'd managed to invite Jason when speak of the devil, in he walked.

"Hey, Sook. Boys." He nodded awkwardly at the two paparazzi.

"Jason, come have a seat." Sookie gestured for him to have a seat across from where she now sat. "This is Tom Lattesta and this is Sara Weiss. This is our brother, Jason Stackhouse."

Jason nodded and shook hands with the two reporters.

"Jason just got discharged from a tour of Afghanistan. He was in...the...Nav" _She stopped. Dammit! _"Naval Forces."

"Oh? Really? Wow. What do you think of the recent focus on gays in the military?" Jason frowned. _Geez_, he thought, _these folks got a one-track mind and that's about it._

"Uh, I don't think anything of it. Not a thing. Nothing to do with me. I like gays—I mean I don't hate them or anything. But I'm not gay, so I'm not following it as much as a gay person might follow it, you know? Like I don't follow up on old people or mamas that want to breastfeed on buses." He shrugged.

Sookie, internally cringing, observed her brother's conversation with the two reporters. Lattesta and Weiss took it all in, their faces quite expressionless. Sookie was thrilled when Hunter interrupted. She was thrilled for all of two seconds.

"Sookie? "

"Yeah, Hunt?"

"Can we order something or do we have to wait? I'm starving."

"What did you guys eat at the studio?"

"Peanuts and ice cream."

"WHAT?" She actually momentarily forgot about the reporters. "That's ALL you kids ate? ALL DAY?"

"Yeah," Hunter replied.

Hoyt just remained quiet.

Crazy Sookie smile in place. She counted to ten. Calmer, she spoke. "How about wings and fries?" She paused as her glance took in the reporters. "And, of course, the side mixed vegetables." She levied "the Eye" at both of the boys.

Hunter made a face but Hoyt played along. "Awesome, Sook," he smiled. "I love vegetables."

Sookie nodded to let Hoyt know she appreciated his cooperation and it would not soon be forgotten. Hoyt threw a smug look at Hunter, who, annoyed, decided to whine for more vegetables.

"_I wanna side of spinach_."

Sookie looked at Hunter. If the boys decided to get pissy, she wasn't sure she'd be able to rein herself in— even with the reporters watching. She found herself wanting to throttle someone. She hated the situation she was in.

She kept thinking about Eric, wondering when he would get there. Beyond that, her feelings were pretty conflicted. She would think of Eric and feel a warm rush of joy and look forward to his calm presence. Then she would think of Eric and want to punch him in the face for getting her into this mess in the first place.

_This is what you get_, she told herself. _This is what you get for jumping into a relationship with someone you barely know. This is what you get for letting yourself just want something..._

Getting Arlene's attention, she ordered the appetizers for the boys while everyone put in their drink orders. Settling back down, the female reporter looked at the two boys and asked them a question. A question, Sookie realized she had NOT prepped them for.

"So, how long have you boys known Godric?"

Stumped at being asked a question Sookie hadn't coached them on, they didn't know how to respond. They both turned to look at Sookie.

"They only met him today for the first time. Godric's only been in the U.S. a couple of weeks," Sookie nodded. She figured it might be best to lay ground rules. Right? Couldn't hurt. Couldn't hurt anymore than this was already hurting, in any event.

"Sara, Tom," she tried to keep her voice friendly and make eye contact with each of them. "I'd prefer you not ask the kids questions. You know. For safety reasons, I don't want too much info on them in the article," she paused. "We live quiet, normal lives. We don't worry about bodyguards or any of that Hollywood stuff. I'd like to keep it that way." She purposefully let her request end on a slightly pleading tone.

Hoyt and Hunter, in the meantime, exchanged a "What the fuck?" look at Sookie's mentioning of bodyguards.

The two reporters exchanged a glance. Sara was the one to reply.

"Sure, Sookie," she nodded. "We get that request a lot. We see how you live pretty open here. We can understand you not wanting info out on the kids."

"Thank you."

Lattesta wasted no time in turning his attention back to Jason. "So, Jason," he prodded with a smile, "why does Crystal Norris insist you're gay if you're not."

_Motherfucker! _Jason thought. _Fucking reporters are worse than lawyers._

"Jase," Sookie interrupted. "Did you come straight from working on the road crew?" Facing him, her features revealed nothing of her internal thoughts.

What the fuck, Sook? Jason looked at her sister. She knew that's what he did. All she would have to do is look at him. Or smell him.

"Yeah."

"You should clean up a bit, don't you think?" Catching on, Jason put his glass of water down on the table.

"Yeah, you're right. I probably reek," he laughed as he stood. He turned to Tom. "You know? Hold that thought. If I'm sitting next to America's Sexiest Man Alive, does nothing for my ego to be America's smelliest." Turning to his sister, he asked for further direction. "You think Sam'll let me use the staff shower?"

"Oh yeah!" Sookie nodded. Yes, yes. She wished Merlotte's had a staff bathtub. They could take turns soaking until Eric and Pam got there. Anything to get away from the reporters. "Sam's not here, but I'm 100% sure he wouldn't mind. Talk to Arlene. Or better yet, Terry."

"Excuse me. Happy to talk to you all in a bit." Jason got up and went off to find Terry. Sookie realized she needed to buy some time with the reporters. She decided to grab the bull by the horns.

_Okay, their topics are dangerous. Why don't I give them a topic?_

"Hey, I said I was gonna give you all a family history before, didn't I?"

The two reporters nodded eagerly.

"Uh, well. Do you know the name Niall Brigant?"

"Oh course! Wealthy Louisiana businessman they say faked his own death back in..." Tom paused and glanced at his colleague. He failed to notice Sookie's face took on a look of shock, her mouth gaping.

"1975?" Sara replied.

"Yeah. That's right," Tom nodded. "Never found the plane. Body. Anything. Why?"

Why, indeed? How come Sookie never knew this? Niall was suspected of faking his own death and just disappearing. She wondered if Linda knew. Maybe Linda was in contact with Niall. He was her father, after all. If he were still alive, he'd certainly want to know Linda and Hadley. Jesus. What the fuck.

The boys were riveted now. They knew next to nothing about Step-Grandpa Niall since he was dead long before they were born.

"Oh, no reason. I said I'd give you a little family background. He was our step-grandfather. Married our grandmother after our grandfather passed."

Lattesta and Weiss exchanged a look. They were so excited they looked like they were going to burst. Sookie sipped her water and gestured for Arlene.

"Arlene, hon. We're gonna be here a bit so I think I'll have a drink after all. A gin and tonic, when you get a chance?"

"Sure thing, Sook." Arlene nodded.

"Thanks."

_I can't fucking believe how this situation keeps happening. __And where the hell is Eric?_ Sookie thought. Part of her wanted to jump him and devour him. And part of her wanted to just jump him and beat the crap out of him for putting her in this position.

Fuck. So not good.

Suddenly the dining room quieted. Sookie looked up at the entrance. Blue eyes locked on blue eyes. Quite against her will, her lips widened into a smile. Pushing her seat back, she actually did jump up and launch herself at Eric. She managed to leave it at a hug, but until the actual moment of contact, she was far from certain that she wouldn't just throw herself into his arms and wrap her legs around him.

"Eric!" She hugged him fiercely.

"Lover," Eric leaned down and breathed her in.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered. "I can't do this. I don't know how to talk to reporters."

"I'm sure you're doing fine," he caressed her back. "I'm sorry we were delayed. Did Jason say anything?"

Jason? Say something? About what? What else could have happened? "Jason? Nope. About what?" Sookie whispered.

"Never mind. Don't worry about it. Pam and I are here. Pam is parking the car and giving Amelia and Maxine some last minute pointers on what to say. Or what not say. I brought Godric out with me to run interference. We'll take the lead with the reporters. All right?"

Sookie noticed for the first time Godric was to Eric's left. The boy smiled sweetly at her. She returned his smile.

"More than all right," she briefly burrowed her head into his chest. How did he have this effect on her? "I feel much better when you're around. It's kind of a mystery."

Eric folded her into his arms for another hug. "Yes, well. I feel much better when you're around, too. I don't know that it's much of a mystery why, though." He laughed.

Sookie melted. _I could get used to this_, she thought.

"Come, lover." He leaned in and chastely kissed her cheek. "Lets get dinner out of the way. We'll have dessert at the house and then insist we all go to bed early. We'll make plans for something fun tomorrow and then, this time tomorrow, it'll all be behind us."

"I like how you think, Northman."

"Really? Is that all? You like me for my mind?"

Sookie gave him a smile. Neither of them realized this, but she had never bestowed that particular smile on anyone. It was a special smile.

"Um, no," she giggled shyly. "I like other stuff, too."

Staring intently at each other, Eric and Sookie were oblivious to the fact that all eyes were on them. A couple of people went so far as to take out their cell phones to snap photos of the couple. Arlene was one of them. She wondered as she took the picture if she could get Coby to help her photoshop her face over Sookie's. That boy was so smart. She figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.

At the booth, the two reporters sat with Hoyt and Hunter who were happily eating fries and wings while shuddering at the disgusting goopy vegetables that had been brought to the table.

Weiss pulled her eyes from the couple who seemed to have melted into one person at the door. Looking at Lattesta she jerked her chin toward the door.

"Do you see the story?"

Lattesta nodded. "Yeah," he laughed. "Guy's not gay, that's for sure."

"He's off the market. That's what he is."

"Definitely. What do you think of the Brigant angle?"

Weiss shrugged. "Could be worth a mention," she sipped her Coke. "Definitely worth researching to find out more."

"Right? I was thinking the same thing. That rumor has floated for years" Lattesta stopped talking as it dawned on him that the two boys, while intently eating, were also avidly listening to every word they said. Grinning grimly at the irony of him feeling uneasy about being overheard, Lattesta nodded silently. "We should definitely pull the old files and see what's there."

"Yeah," Weiss nodded. "Agreed."

In the meantime, Pam walked in flanked by her multi-generational fan club, Amelia and Maxine. She nodded approvingly as she passed the Viking and the Barracuda dry-humping in the entry.

_Hmm_, she thought. _Nothing says straight more than having sex in public with your girlfriend. The Viking is finally learning. About fucking time._

"Sara. Tom," she called out. "How have you both been?" She made her way to the table. "I see you have met some of our friends?" She smiled at Hoyt and Hunter. "I have more that I must introduce you to..."

And so dinner commenced.

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**AN: What can I say? It's a bit like a rollercoaster. This fic leaves me breathless sometimes. Ch75 up shortly. Please review. I LOVE feedback. FYI, I do have a sequel outlined. I also have a ROTSS Pam fic that I'll be posting when this is done. Original readers, remember Pamdy? That leads me to...**

**Contest Announcement**

**Indie Fic Contest. Supes are supes, humans are humans. Aside from this anything goes! Original stories, characters, plots.**

**Snarky Sidekick Contest. Pam. More Pam. You know what I say: Pam's like cowbell. You can never have too much Pam. Pam Wanted.**

**Check my Favorite Authors for information on both contests!**


	75. Pam Collects Her IOU

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Five: Pam Collects Her IOU**

Jason, freshly showered, had managed to score a clean t-shirt from Terry. He definitely smelled much better, if Pam's flaring nostrils and hungry look were any indication.

The look on Pam's face wasn't lost on Sookie, who was reminded of Eric's words when he first walked into Merlotte's. She was starting to wonder if the thing about Jason had something to do with Pam. But there wasn't time to ponder it right then. She would just have to make a mental note to ask Eric about it later. Much later.

Eric, meanwhile, had managed to skillfully direct the conversation with the two reporters to focus on his role as Godric's guardian. Pausing intermittently to call out questions to Godric in Danish, Eric gave the reporters a mix of truthful and fabricated responses to their questions about Godric, about how long Eric had been the boy's guardian, and about the fight that had landed the boy in the hospital. Although a good portion of the discussion was based on lies, these subjects were, ridiculously enough, the safest topics. It was Eric's intention to milk it for all it was worth.

Giving Eric a chance to catch up with eating, Pam took over with the reporters. She adeptly guided the conversation onto the topics of the show, HBO's production schedule, and Eric's upcoming on-location filming schedule. Sookie's eyes opened wide when she heard all the on-location filming he'd be doing over the next 18 months. She quickly made an effort to hide the startled look on her face. She realized, of course, that if they were going to succeed in fooling the reporters into thinking they'd been together longer than a week—and that was being generous—she'd have to stop with the wide-eyed look every time somebody said something that surprised her.

Eric was answering a question about a film he'd be shooting the following fall when, Sookie, feeling insecure, reached for his hand under the table. He clasped her hand without interrupting his train of thought as he focused on answering Weiss and Lattesta's questions. Sookie wasn't even sure if he registered that she'd experienced a flare-up of worry at the thought of him being gone for long stretches of time. That thought was put to rest when, Pam again taking over holding court with the two reporters, Eric stole a moment to whisper in her ear.

"Don't worry. I fully intend on bringing you with me on most if not all of the trips. Even if I have to kidnap you."

His mouth against her ear, he brushed his lips against her cheek. She felt a warm ripple cascade down her back.

Despite the trouble she had envisioning herself traveling to the mostly far-off exotic locales—well, except maybe for Upstate New York—she nodded.

Done eating, the boys were clamoring to go check on Long Shadow. Lattesta also looked excited that Hunter might be vacating his spot next to him. The boy had taken to playing with the silverware and the unused straws.

"Sook, can we go out now? Please? We're finished." This from Hoyt.

"Yeah." This from Hunter.

Sookie looked over at her brothers and their place settings. Hmm. Just as she predicted. No one touched the damn spinach.

"What about the spinach?" Sookie pointed at the full plate of spinach that still sat on the table.

Making a face, Hunter shook his head. "Sook, I tried," he looked down, still shaking his head. "It was frozen, not fresh. I could taste it had no nutrients. Felipe says you might as well eat a piece of cardboard if you're gonna eat old nasty vegetables."

What the fuck? This —_THIS_—is where that Spanish pain in the ass has a positive influence? Convincing the boys that frozen vegetables aren't worth eating? Sookie, looking at Hunter, made a face. One...two... three...She _knew _Hunter wasn't going to eat the spinach! Still peeved, she somehow managed to keep her tone even when at last she spoke.

"Fine. Next time, think before you order. Go out back. Stay close. Ask Terry for a bowl for Long Shadow. Have your phone handy," and one more, "don't talk to strangers."

Hoyt and Hunter exchanged a look. Strangers? In Bon Temps? They knew everybody. Didn't mean they weren't strange, though. Or crazy. Just that they knew them.

Seeing Sook was starting to give them "the Eye," the boys nodded and scooted off to go find Terry.

In the meantime, across the table, someone had decided to let their fingers do the walking.

Pam, done with the press for the moment as Eric, eye roll, was discussing his method acting technique for the five millionth time since she'd known him, was still thinking about her Jason IOU. Truthfully, her initial jesting about it had been just that: jesting. She hadn't been serious. She had merely been musing.

But, seeing that dark-haired White Trash Brigade reject had prompted a very strong, very instinctual reaction in Pam. He was, after all, one of hers. Right then and there, she decided she didn't feel like sharing him. Just yet. He was very good-looking. He was ripped. He was amusing. He wasn't arrogant like some people. She looked over at Eric, a frown on her face. Most importantly, he was obviously intimidated by her and he got a hard-on every time she was nearby. Yes, those were very important qualities Pam looked for in a man. When she looked for men.

Pam decided she might as well look into settling the IOU. Since the reporters were there, it actually was good timing in terms of promoting Jason's heterosexuality.

_Really, I'll be doing him a favor_, Pam reasoned. Then her eyes lit up. _I'll be doing him a second favor so I'll earn another IOU. This could get fun. Maybe I'll bring him with me on my vacation and he can be my indentured man whore._

As Pam listened to Eric drone on and on about method acting—really it wasn't fair that beautiful people such as he were allowed to bore the rest of the world—she looked at Jason. She would bet all Eric's money that Jason Stackhouse's only understanding of the word "method" was related to sex.

_That might not be a bad thing_, she told herself.

Pam finally decided it was time for a little action. Stretching across the table she attempted to grab the pitcher of beer with her left hand. It didn't quite work out how she'd planned. That is, instead of spilling beer on Jason's arm, she accidentally dumped it all over his lap.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jason catapulted himself up from his seat. Pam was immediately on her feet too trying to "dry" Jason off with a stack of paper napkins.

Sookie, watching this sequence from across the table, bit her tongue to refrain from saying something. Eric paused from talking acting method long enough to glare at Pam. He'd witnessed the "oh-this-pitcher-is-too- heavy-for-me" act before. Many, many times before. Well, if he'd been wondering earlier what Pam's intentions towards Jason were, there was no longer any mystery about it. She was obviously giving Jason a rub down under the guise of patting his jeans dry.

"Oh! Look at that!" Pam cried. "These cheap napkins are not absorbing the wetness on your lap at all! Stackhouse, I'm sorry. Come. Let me help you. If you do not take care of this promptly, you will be," Pam paused as she continued to pat his lap, "sticky and," pat, pat, pat "uncomfortable," pat, pat, pat "all evening long."

Jason was catching flies. He wasn't sure what the heck would happen 'all evening long' but he was already feeling pretty damn sticky and uncomfortable.

"Aw, Pam." Holy Shit, Girl! "I'm all right. I'll just go see what I can do to dry up in the little boys room."

Quick as a panther, Jason was up and making a beeline for the men's room. Sookie's gaze fell on Pam, who responded with her characteristic shrug and innocent "Who me?" look. Sookie frowned.

Maxine, absorbing all the Stackhouse & Co. shenanigans, was on her third beer. She was sincerely hoping Eric was purposefully trying to find boring stuff to talk about and he didn't actually believe these things were of interest to non-actors. Maxine felt like she was trapped in an episode of **_In the Actor's Studio_**. And she hated that pretentious show. She took another sip of her beer. Realizing it was empty, Maxine stood up — slowly — and turned to face Sookie.

"Sookie, I'm gonna go get some air. I'll check on the boys and Long Shadow while I'm out there."

"Sounds good, Maxine," Sookie nodded.

_Argh! _Sookie thought. _I'd like to be going outside right now. I hope Eric doesn't really talk about this shit much._

Pam, watching Maxine start towards the back door, suddenly got a look on her face that scared the shit out of Sookie.

"Maxine," Pam jumped up. "I will join you."

Looking like the cat that ate the canary Pam caught up to Maxine as the older woman started down the short hallway that lead to Merlotte's backdoor.

Maxine had spent enough time with Pam to know something was up. "Pam, you're not really coming out back, are you?"

"No, my buzzed friend," she smiled. "I am," she lowered her voice, "collecting on my IOU."

"Oh!" Maxine's face made an 'O.' But she wasn't really surprised, so it was really more of an 'o.'

"Yes." She nodded. "Jason will be surprised too."

The two walked further down the hallway, parting ways once Maxine headed out the door and Pam continued towards the restrooms. Seeing a closed door with a sign indicating 'Office,' Pam reached out and turned the knob. She purred like a kitten once she realized the door was unlocked and that Sookie's former boss, the one Amelia so eloquently calls "a girl," was still not back. Waiting outside the men's room for a few minutes more, she finally was rewarded when Jason appeared, looking —and smelling—only slightly worse for the wear. Meeting Jason's eyes, she smiled.

"Stackhouse."

"Pam," Jason greeted her. Pam moved in really close to him, eliminating all space between them.

Although he did a fairly good job of masking his surprise, he was pretty fucking surprised. He could feel her breasts on his pecs.

_Well, shit! _He thought. _Michele was right. _

"I feel responsible for your messiness. How did it go? Do you require assistance?"

Momentarily tongue-tied, Jason could only stare down at Pam. With her heels, she was only a few inches shorter than him. Her face was only inches from his own. She was smiling at him. He wondered for a second if she were toying with him.

"I like," she put her hand on him and rubbed him over his jeans, "to help."

What the fuck? Jason felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head. Fuck! It had been a long goddamn time since he'd had sex.

"I would especially like to help a man who served his country..." Pam paused suggestively, "so long," stroke, "and so hard," stroke.

Closing his eyes briefly, Jason cleared his throat. "Pam, if you're kidding with me," his eyes open, they were focused on hers, "this is a really mean joke."

"Jason, I don't play games when it comes to sex." A perplexed look on her face, Pam glanced at a cheap picture of a dog that Sam had hanging in the hallway. "Let me rephrase that. I don't play games when it comes to foreplay." Her voice became a husky whisper. "I do, however, play lots of sex games." She smiled. Moving in for the kill, she leaned in and started to nibble along Jason's jaw line.

Ah, ah. Jason's brain was having trouble comprehending anything beyond Pam's lips on his neck. Suddenly he grabbed her hand.

"C'mon, then, little lady," Jason pulled Pam towards Sam's office. Surprised by his assertiveness, Pam's eyes widened slightly.

_Jason's got a touch of the Barracuda in him apparently, _she thought. She wasn't disappointed by the revelation.

He opened the door to Sam's office. Leading her in, he repeated, "C'mon." Pam's look of surprise gave way to a big smile. "Yes, sir," she saluted him.

Jason growled as he pulled Pam into Sam's office.

Terry, coming out into the hallway to put some empty cardboard boxes out back, put two and two together pretty quickly when he saw Jason and Pam were no longer in the hallway and then he heard the door to Sam's office lock. Nonplussed, he nodded his head approvingly.

_Good to have the Stackhouses home. They're good people_, he thought.

* * *

**AN: OMG! Ha ha ha! That Pam! Remember: Never enough Pam! **

**Thanks. :D**


	76. You Wanna Tell Them The Truth?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Six: You Wanna Tell Them The Truth?**

Back at the table, Eric's less than enthralling discussion of how he'd perfected his acting technique was finally coming to an end.

As devastatingly boring as it had been, Sookie was still pretty upset that it was over. This meant the moment she had been dreading had finally arrived.

Interview Time.

Unnerved that it had crept up on them without she and Eric having had an opportunity to work out the details of their "story," Sookie jumped to her feet. Thinking quickly, she came up with an excuse for her to leave the table.

"Hey!" She still held Eric's hand. "I'm sorry. Maxine seemed a little buzzed and, well, she doesn't really drink much," _geez, Sook, lie much? _"Anyway, I'm just gonna run out and check up on her and the boys. Okay?" She laughed nervously. "Be right back. I promise."

Eric slowly stood up. At some point between the hospital and Merlotte's he'd finally cleaned the faux blood off his face. Looking at him, Sookie had to admit she kind of missed it. At the realization that she apparently found her extremely delicious boyfriend _even more delicious _when appearing bloodied, she had no excuse for herself.

_I am an extremely sick woman, _she told to herself, shaking her head. She started to walk towards Merlotte's back hallway.

"Sookie, I'll walk you out," Eric called out after her. "Excuse me," he said to the two reporters.

"No problem, Eric," Tom replied.

"Yeah," Sara Weiss nodded. "We could use a few minutes." She said, giving her partner a meaningful look.

Eric caught up to Sookie and together they walked down the hallway that lead out back. They bumped into Arlene coming out of the kitchen.

"Oh, hi," Arlene's eyes were glued to Eric. "Mr. Northman, I didn't want to disturb your big important dinner meeting but I just wanted to say I'm a big fan of yours. Ever since '**The Kimono Dragon.'" **Sookie rolled her eyes at Arlene's mistake. "I just loved that movie. Oh and I love "**Over My Dead Body**," too. Is it true they're adding a Little Ricky to the show?"

"Ah, yes," Eric paused and glanced at Sookie making a subtle eye gesture.

"Eric, this is Arlene. You remember how I told you I used to wait tables here?" Eric looked at her blankly but soon recovered. "Yes, of course." He turned back to Arlene. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, Mr. Northman, the pleasure is all mine!" She looked at Sookie. "When Sookie said you were coming in and you were a friend of hers, I just knew it was the sweet Baby Jesus smiling down on me at last. He owes me," Arlene nodded. "I have dated some real snakes in the grass, let me tell you. I didn't think I could do any worse than Coby's daddy. _But the man outdid himself _second time I married him. Probably the only human being on the planet worse than Coby's daddy is Lisa's daddy—oh Coby and Lisa are my kids—"

"So I gathered." Eric had a strange look on his face and was staring at Arlene.

"Anyway, when Sook said you were a friend and you were stopping by, I knew it was the angels smiling on me at last..."

"Yes?" Eric was having flashbacks to Hotshot.

"Yeah," Arlene lowered her voice. Sookie observed all this unfold as she stood silently next to Eric. "I imagine you must get lonely doing all the traveling you actors do and well, it can't be any fun living with the Stackhouses—" she paused and turned to Sookie "no offense, Sook."

"No, of course not, Arlene." Behind Arlene's back, Sookie rolled her eyes again. Eric coughed to cover up a snort of laughter.

"Anyway, I was gonna offer...you know..."Arlene wrung her hands, "I'm not a slut or anything like that, but since you are a celebrity and all, I'd be kicking myself forever if I didn't at least make the offer, you know?"

"Ah, I see." Eric looked past Arlene to Sookie who stood behind her. Switching his focus back to Arlene, he asked her the obvious question. "Are you propositioning me?"

Arlene made a face. "_We-ell_," she replied in a sing-songy voice. "I guess so...it sounds kinda dirty when you put it like that. I like to think that I'm just offering you some southern hospitality."

Eric was silent for a moment. His eyes met Sookie's as he spoke. "Well, Arlene, I appreciate your offer, but I've lucked upon all the southern hospitality I can handle." Sookie blushed at his words. Eric smiled breezily. Arlene, confused at first looked behind her and, seeing Sookie's face, put the pieces together. "Well, heck!" She threw an angry look at Sookie. "Why didn't you tell me, Sookie Stackhouse? You let me make a damn fool of myself!"

With a loud harrumph, Arlene stalked off. After a few steps, she threw them a backwards glance and issued her parting shot.

"By the way, your brother and the blond are in Sam's office. I think he's showing her some _southern hospitality_."

Arlene resumed making her way out to the bar. Eric and Sookie remained in the hallway a few seconds more. Finally, Sookie grabbed Eric by the hand.

"Come with me."

Sookie lead Eric into the back pantry. No one was there.

"I thought you wanted to check on the boys."

"No. It was a cover. I was gonna text you to join me. We need to decide what we're telling those reporters about us. I mean when did we meet? How long have we been together? All that stuff, you know?"

Ah. Yes. All that stuff. Eric found himself wishing Pam were there. She has very good instincts about this type of thing. Silent, he looked at Sookie while he played through several strategies in his head.

After a few minutes, Sookie was getting impatient.

"Hey, earth to Eric." She waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Staring at me isn't gonna give you any answers."

Suddenly she was wrapped in his arms.

"Lover, you underestimate yourself." He pushed her to the wall and laid his lips on hers. Slow and sweet, the kiss went on for a bit. For a brief instant, they both forgot where they were. Rejecting the moment of cruelty when Eric finally sought to move his lips away, Sookie refused to let him go. Instead, she laid her hands on either side of his face and pulled him closer.

"Hmm, you have a healthy appetite," he laughed as he kissed along her collarbone.

"Me? You do too!"

"Hmm..." Eric trailed kisses along her neck, up to her cheek, finally nibbling on her ear.

Sookie, positive Eric was deliberately trying to drive her crazy, finally just grabbed him again and pulled his face down to hers, capturing his lips. At last, she halted the kiss so they could each take a few breaths. Sookie laughed.

"I guess you bring something out in me. I've..." she looked down shyly, "never been like this..."

Eric's eyes washed over her. He believed she was telling him the truth and he loved that. He wanted to be the only one to unleash these feelings in her. She had certainly unleashed something new and unfamiliar in him.

"It's mutual. I've never been like this."

"Eric... ? "

"Yes, Sookie?"

"Back to the reporters?"

Eric sighed. In the end, the Barracuda reined supreme. He came close to laughing aloud.

"Okay, how about we tell them the truth?" He suggested.

Sookie's jaw dropped. She was horrified. "The truth? The truth? Eric? That we met? Like what? Five days ago? And fell into bed together after four? Uh-huh. No."

"Sookie, hear me out. Not _that _truth. This one. That we met through mutual acquaintances—"

"Who? Hoyt and Hunter?"

"Sure," he nodded. "And Jason."

"Okay. Go on."

"We met through mutual acquaintances, but you were still engaged at the time. It was only after you broke off your engagement—recently— that we officially became a couple."

Sookie looked thoughtful. It actually seemed plausible. It made it sound like she was a slutty indecisive idiot who dumped her fiance to date a Hollywood actor, but really it was no different from a lot of gossipy news items. In fact, it was tame by most standards.

"What about who the mutual acquaintances were in case they ask? We can't say you picked up Hunt and Hoyt while they were in the process of running away from San Antonio... "

"We'll just say it was local folks. I've been in and out of Shreveport for more than a year now. It's perfectly plausible I've met people."

"Why are we not saying when?"

Eric shrugged. Finally he came up with something. "Out of 'sensitivity' to your fiancé."

A smile settled on Sookie's face. She giggled. "Brilliant."

"Good. Anything else we need to cover?"

"Uh. Decision to live together?"

"Why don't we just highlight that we were having real estate discussions about the house before we met and I'm still going through with my condo plans despite our involvement?"

"Oh, Eric! That's perfect! We can just say we met through a realtor because I was considering selling the house...Uncle Mike and JB would have no problem backing us on whatever we need them to say, I'm sure. As for everyone making their way home last week?"

"It was planned. No surprises. You decided to all move home once your brother was discharged."

Remembering what Arlene had told her about her brother, Sookie grimaced. Knowing where her mind went, Eric brought her back.

"Lover, look at me," he lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "Look at me. Pam is a cold, conniving, cruel-tongued bitch. Having said that, she's not malicious and she genuinely likes Jason. Truthfully, she likes all of you. I'm not sure what cosmic forces delivered us all to your door, but I may have to agree with Maxine on this thing. Sometimes things just happen as they're supposed to and all that's left for you to do is hope that you recognize a good thing when it walks through the door."

"You know you already got me, Eric." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What?"

"You already got me. You don't need to try to send subliminal messages couched as you agreeing with Maxine's beliefs in universality and oneness and all that."

"You didn't buy it?"

"Nope. I don't see you as being big into metaphysics. I see you more as a captain of your own destiny type."

Eric laughed. "I guess that's more true than not." He leaned in and gave Sookie a final kiss. "You ready?"

"Yeah, you go out first. Say I'll follow along. I really am gonna go check on the boys. I'll grab drinks for them." She opened a cooler and grabbed a couple of cans of soda.

"What about Maxine?" Sookie raised a brow at Eric's suggestion. "Maxine doesn't need any more to drink," Sookie joked.

Godric and Amelia, throughout Eric's one-man lecture series, had held hands and whispered back and forth on whatever topics they'd come across that Godric could discuss with his limited English. Totally wrapped up in each other, the two had been oblivious to pretty much all else around them. With everyone else gone, the two finally realized it was just the two of them alone with the reporters. Sitting awkwardly staring at Weiss and Lattesta, they were more than a little relieved when the others started to return to their seats.

First back were Pam and Jason, who returned to the table both sporting very satisfied grins.

Amelia noted curiously that Jason held out Pammy's chair for her. That seemed a very un-Jason-like thing to do.

Lattesta and Weiss viewed Pam and Jason with curiosity but said nothing.

Getting an idea, Amelia looked at the two reporters. Seemingly out of the blue she posed a question to them. "Hey, I guess you guys travel a lot, huh? Ever been to France. Like for Cannes?"

Surprised, Weiss answered quickly. "No, haven't. Would like to. Even bought a book on French phrases."

"You?" Amelia persisted with Tom Lattesta.

"No. Never been to France."

"Do you want to learn French?"

"No," Tom laughed. What the hell? These Stackhouses were just crazy. "I can speak Spanish and Spanglish. That's enough for me," he laughed.

Amelia, nodding, turned to Pam.

"Où avez-vous?" [_Where did you go?]_

"J'ai aidé à ton frère. Avec son pantaloon." [_I helped your brother. With his pants_.]

Pam smirked at Jason, who gave her a rather nervous smile in return. Turning back to Amelia she continued. "Puis je l'ai aidé voir Dieu." [_Then I helped him see God_.]

Amelia rolled her eyes.

"S'il vous plaît ne parle pas." [_Please don't say anymore_.] Amelia took a sip of water.

Godric, sitting next to Amelia, still holding her hand, quietly observed her exchange with Pam. His face thoughtful, he leaned in to whisper something in Amelia's ear.

"Je parle français." [_I speak French_.] Amelia's eyes lit up, she turned her seat around so that she faced Godric.

"Vraiment?" [_Really_?] She squealed.

"Oui," he nodded.

"Que pensez-vous de moi?" [_What do you think of me_?]

"Vous êtes drôle et délicieux." [_You are funny and delightful_.]

"Awesome," at Godric's puzzled look, she switched back to French.

"Cela me rend heureux. Je vous aime aussi." [_That makes me happy. I like you, too_.]

Amelia and Godric sank into their happy—now French-speaking—bubble. Pam smiled appreciatively at the couple. Suddenly the Viking was back to put a damper on everything.

"Pamela," Eric smiled dangerously. "I see you've returned. Jason," he nodded at Jason.

Leaving little pause between his words, it sounded like he was commenting on Pam returning Jason. Pam smirked. Turning to the reporters Eric explained Sookie's absence.

"Sookie decided to bring the boys drinks. She'll be back in a moment."

Registering that Amelia and Godric were fully engrossed in a conversation in French, Eric wasn't sure what to think until, listening in, he discerned that they were talking about cartoons.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw Sookie and Maxine making their way back into the dining area. Seeing Sookie's eyes dart over to the front door, Eric's eyes followed suit.

Tara and JB were walking in, but they seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion. Glancing back at Sookie, he saw her motion with her hand that she was going over to them. He nodded and turned his attention back to the reporters.

"I don't know what Russ told you but we were hoping to take the children on an outing tomorrow..."

All the while Eric continued to tell the reporters of his and Sookie's tentative plans for the following day, he kept one eye on Sookie who was likely filling the missing Stackhouse in on all the occurrences of the past 24 hours.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading. It's been fun. Both times. Crazy, I know. I wonder if I pulled it and reposted again, if that would still be fun? Maybe not. **

**BTW, can someone please write Review #1500? Please? Alex? Mo? Toni? You guys are killing me. My OCD is cranked and I almost wrote myself a review just to get it over with but Peppermintyrose says that's not a good thing to do so I'm trying to hold off. YIKES!**


	77. The Paparazzi Strikes Back

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Seven: ****The Paparazzi Strikes Back**

Converging at the front of the bar from two different directions, Sookie met up with Tara and JB by the high top tables at the front of the bar.

"Hey, guys." Sookie made several head gestures attempting to direct their attention to the Stackhouse tables. "Good to see you all."

At Sookie's greeting, Tara and JB halted their argument. Surprised to see her sister at Merlotte's, Tara was even more perplexed by Sookie's exaggerated head twitching.

What the heck? The couple exchanged a look and then finally Tara spoke. "Sook, we know you're trying to tell us something. But we haven't a clue. Spit it out."

"All right!" Sookie grabbed each of them by an arm and brought them closer to the bar, further away from the table. "We're all here with reporters— actually they're paparazzi. They're angling for some dirt and we got caught up the mix because of Eric and Pam."

"Oh. The douche bag's here, too?" Tara attempted to peer around Sookie to the group's table. Horrified, Sookie shook her head.

"No, no! Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judea! No! He's the only one who's not here. Thank God!" She shuddered. "We even have Long Shadow out back with the boys."

"Who's the karate kid next to Amelia?" Oh, yeah. Tara wouldn't be up on the newest family member.

"He's Eric's...a... ward, I guess you'd call him. Eric's his guardian. He's 16, Danish and is an actor on Eric's show. Just pretend you already met him. He'll be staying at the house."

Tara's eyes widened. She glanced at JB. "Okay. What's the kid's name?"

"Godric Christiansen, but he likes to be called God for short. He and Ame are sweet on each other."

"Yeah, it looks it. God, huh? So what about the reporters?"

"It's bad. They're gonna be tracking Eric and me for the next day or so. I've got half a mind to just tell you to get the hell out of here. And take the boys and Long Shadow with you."

Tara considered Sookie's words. Really, Tara was getting a bit tired of JB's rant on why her taking the job with Frank was such a bad idea. She wouldn't have had JB pegged for the insecure type but maybe she was being unfair. After all, they'd only just gotten back together. Maybe he was nervous she'd decide she liked LA and would just want to stay out there. Who knows? It didn't have to be he was jealous of Frank. Regardless, they'd talked about little else for the past few hours. She was tired of it and she was afraid she'd lose her temper if it continued. It might be safer to just hang with her siblings and the reporters.

"Sook, it's probably a strength in numbers type thing, huh? I don't mind staying if our being around helps. JB?" She smiled sweetly at him. She knew he'd see through her reasoning and know why she wanted to stay but she didn't care right then.

JB gave Tara a hard look. A look that did not go unnoticed by Sookie. "Fine, Tar. We're done for now, but we're not done with this conversation."

"I wouldn't expect anything else, JB." Tara turned to her sister. "Okay, we're in. What do we need to do?"

Sookie nodded, thinking. What do I need to fill them in on? "Okay. We need you two to play along with whatever we tell them," she bit her lower lip, trying to remember everything. "We're gonna tell a few white lies about how we all met and stuff. Um, none of them has anything to do with you except we're saying the family always meant to move back to the house when Jase got released. Oh, and JB, we're saying we— Eric and I— met through you and Uncle Mike because we were planning on selling part of the property and Eric contacted you because he was interested in buying some property."

"Okay. That it?" Tara was making a mental replay.

"Nope. There's a little more. The reporters originally wrote a story that Eric and Jason were a couple. We agreed to let them follow us so they'd pull that story."

"Eric and Jase? Gay? Why would the reporters think that?"

"That's a long story I'll have to tell you later. Boils down to Crystal Norris spreading rumors."

"Oh. Disgusting skank," Tara's eyes darted up to JB as she remembered her fiance's involvement with Crystal's daughter Tanya. _Oops! My mouth's getting as bad as Sook's. _"So, is there anything else?"

"Well, you've been gone a while..."

"Sook, I've been at JB's since yesterday. What else could possibly have happened since yesterday?" A pink blush began to spread along Sookie's face and neck. Watching her sister closely, Tara didn't miss the telltale sign.

"No!" Tara, eyes wide, glanced briefly at JB, who just looked confused. "You and Eric?"

"Sh! Sh!" Sookie shushed her sister instinctively. She knew it made no sense since they were meeting with reporters who were about to spread word of their relationship to millions, in possibly dozens of languages. "Yeah. I'm not marrying Bill..."

"Thank fuck for that! Sook! I'm so happy!" Tara threw her arms around her older sister in a fierce hug.

"And I seem to have gotten myself involved with Eric."

"Oh, oh, oh! This is WONDERFUL! I'm so happy I could BURST!" Tara was squealing and, indeed, it did seem that she was so happy she could burst.

Strangled in her sister's stronghold hug, Sookie was puzzled by the intensity of Tara's reaction to the news that she was dating Eric. Tara had never been much of a fangirl. In fact, one of the things her sister disliked most about New York was the annoying circus atmosphere that descended whenever a red carpet event occurred. Like when the city would close Bryant Park for Fashion Week.

"Tar," Sookie laughed. "I didn't realize you were such an Eric Northman fan."

"What? Oh, no, hon." Tara shook her head pulling out of their embrace. "Not that part. Part about not marrying Bill. I hate that douche bag. I was going to say something." Tara smiled at JB. "Now, I don't have to."

"Oh!" replied Sookie. _Wow, Bill really has a talent for inspiring hatred, doesn't he?_

"Okay, let's go sit." Sookie lead the procession toward the table only to immediately halt their progress. "One- no- two last things I need to tell you."

"Okay. Shoot."

"We spent part of the day in the ER because the kids got into a fight in Shreveport, outside the film studio. Godric got punched and hit the ground hard so we wound up at the hospital." _Mention the whole nonsense with Ame telling the hospital she and Godric were married? No_. "None of the other kids was hurt."

"Okay," Tara nodded. "Got it. What's the second thing?"

"I think Jase and Pam just had sex in Sam's office."

Tara was catching flies. "No! Shut up! Pam?"

"I'm serious, Tar. Don't know for sure, but they disappeared for a bit and Arlene made a nasty insinuation— "

"Yeah, well. When does she not? Bitch." Tara, remembering where they were, looked around the restaurant. Spotting Arlene by the bar, she breathed a sigh of relief. Since Sook left, service at Merlotte's usually sucked anyway. If Arlene overheard her bad-mouthing her, she'd never refill the damn water pitcher.

"That's it. Seriously." Sookie nodded.

JB's face reflected battling emotions of bemusement and apprehension. He told himself to shrug it off. He knew what the family was like. This was just their way. It was part of their charm he told himself.

Sookie and the new arrivals made their way to the table. Sookie called out to Arlene that she was grabbing a chair from one of the empty tables. With that, Tara and JB joined the party.

"Hey, Tom. Sara. This is my sister, Tara Stackhouse and her fiancé JB DuRone. Tar, JB, this is Tom Lattesta and Sara Weiss. They're reporters with the _National Intruder_."

Exchanging pleasantries, Tara and JB waved at the two reporters.

"And you two remember Godric, of course?" Sookie introduced Godric, who continued to be embroiled in a conversation with Amelia.

"Ame," Sookie attempted to get her sister's attention. "Ame," she frowned. Slightly louder she attempted again. "_Amelia_!"

"What?" The girl turned around to face Sookie who was standing to the left of Amelia's chair.

"Don't 'what' me. Tara and JB are here. Say hello to them," Sookie looked at Godric. "Godric, you remember Tara and JB." Bending down, Sookie whispered in Amelia's ear 'play along.'

Amelia nodded and said to Godric in French. "C'est ma sœur Tara et son fiancé JB. Lie que vous êtes amis avec eux" [_This is my sister Tara and her __fiancé JB_. _Pretend you're friends with them_.]

Godric nodded and, standing up, he walked around the table to Tara. Saying "Tara," he threw his arms around her and gave her a hug. Tara laughed awkwardly as she hugged him back. Amelia giggled, while Sookie just closed her eyes and counted. Eric, tracing the hug to the misunderstanding about customary American greetings at the hospital, shook his head.

Done hugging Tara, Godric turned to JB, his arms open for an embrace. JB held him off at the pass. "Whoa, there, cowboy," JB put out his hand. "Good to see you again, too." Godric, nodding, shook JB's hand. Finally, everyone was situated at the table with the reporters. The grilling commenced.

Eric and Sookie fielded most of the questions. Eric handled the relationship questions, while Sookie answered the Bon Temps related questions. Real estate questions went to JB, while Tara and Jason each answered questions about what they were doing before returning to Bon Temps the week before.

The reporters were excited. It was a fun story. The Stackhouses were fun. The story was definitely more tame than the original story focusing on Eric Northman's same sex liaison. But there were definitely enough elements to make this a full story. Northman's off the market and settled down with a journalist type, not a Hollywood starlet. This actually supported earlier rumors—rumors never exactly dispelled by Northman— that the actor was positioning himself long-term for a career in politics. The Stackhouse family was attractive and charming. The reunion story was a good one, complete with a military homecoming. The connection to Niall Brigant definitely warranted a mention and they'd investigate it to high heaven to find out the real story behind the mogul's disappearance. This was a rich feature, not exactly the expose the original story was but it would still sell magazines.

There were two angles to the evening's events that yet had to be uncovered. Tom and Sara had texted each other back and forth so they could converse on the two topics without anyone following their discussion. One, they'd have to investigate separately. Identifying the former fiance dumped for the Hollywood Heartthrob. The second topic could be pursued then. As the dinner at Merlotte's was finally winding down, the two reporters sought their opportunity to zero in on the second topic.

"So," Sara started. "We heard about Tara and JB's whirlwind reunion and engagement," she smiled at the couple. "Jason, are you seeing someone?"

Jason, startled, looked up reflexively at Pam. Cautiously, he responded. "Not really..."

"It must've been difficult. Being overseas for so long?"

"Yeah, it was..."

"You must be happy to be home?"

"Happy doesn't begin to describe it..."

Hoyt and Hunter came running back to the table. Sookie jumped up to get them settled. Rather than placing them back at their original spots in the booth next to the reporters, Sookie grabbed two more empty chairs and situated them on either side of JB.

"Do you have long-term plans now that you're back in the U.S.?"

"I'm working on getting a steady job. Better situation. So I can pitch in and earn my keep."

"Are you working now?"

"I'm doing public works for the parish. Working on the road crew. Digging ditches. Filling potholes. That kinda thing. I'm as-needed right now, but it's looking good that something'll open up soon."

"Oh. Retirement?"

"No. Sentencing."

"Oh," Sara, nodding, jotted down some notes. "So you're happy to be home?"

"Yeah."

"Guess it was your family that kept you going?"

"Hell, yeah!" He looked around briefly and made eye contact with Sookie and Amelia.

"You're looking to settle back down in Bon Temps?"

"Fuck, yeah! Wouldn't go anywhere else?"

"Did you and Pam Ravenscroft have sex earlier today?"

Jason's jaw dropped. "Huh?"

"Earlier today. Here. You two disappeared together for about 15 minutes. Were you having sex?"

Jason shut his mouth. Pam's face was pensive. Sookie rolled her eyes, while Eric glared at Pam.

"Tar," Hunter leaned in to get his sister's attention.

"What, Hunt?"

"If they did do that, that would've been a quickie, right? Uncle Felipe says—"

Trying to mask her shock, Tara put a hand over her younger brother's mouth. "Quiet Hunt. Let the reporters interview Pam," she emphasized Pam's name, "and Jase in peace." As she brought her hand down, she whispered to him. "Do not bring that pervert up again in front of the reporters. You hear me?"

"Yeah," Hunter felt slightly put out. Shaft or no shaft, maybe Tara _was _still crazy.

At the other end of the table, Pam was coming to terms with being "outed." Or reverse-outed. "Well," she started slowly, "we may have found ourselves in a back room together—"

"And you had sex?" Tom Lattesta was practically giddy with the turn of events. He and Sara had been anticipating a flat out denial. All this hemming and hawing—from Pam Ravenscroft, no less!— made it all the more better.

Pam looked at Jason. She grimaced. Somehow this had seemed like a better idea when it was hypothetical. Now, she was uncomfortable with the idea that she was _slightly _available to men being broadcast to the masses.

_Favors_, she thought, chagrined. _It is always my generous and giving nature that causes me difficulty. _"Jason, do you have a problem with the reporters knowing the truth?"

Jason leaned in close to Pam. "Well, I'd kinda like Sam to let me back in here," he replied with a quirk of his brow. "Only decent place in Bon Temps."

"Hmm," Pam nodded her head. "That is your only concern?"

"Well, it's important."

"Yes, okay." She looked at the reporters. "Do not mention the name of the establishment in connection with anything you print about Jason and my dalliance."

"So you admit there was a dalliance?" Lattesta was practically foaming at the mouth.

Pam frowned. These reporters were much too excited about this story.

"Yes, yes. We," Pam paused taking note of the three Teacup Stackhouses. Hunter seemed upset. Hoyt looked curious. Amelia was staring at Emo Boy. Sigh. "We had relations at that time. Yes. Neither of us is otherwise attached and, so, you see, there is no controversy," she shrugged. "There is no story."

Lattesta and Weiss exchanged grins.

"Let us be the judge on that." Tom replied.

Exhausted, Sookie figured it was finally time for dinner to end.

"Hey, everybody," she glanced around the table at the motley crew. "We should get Godric home and settled in." She looked over at him and he smiled.

_What an innocent_, she thought. _Hope Amelia goes easy on him. _

"Yes," Eric agreed. "Sookie is right. We still need to finalize our plans for tomorrow."

Sookie got an idea. Maybe...maybe...

"Yeah, Sara, Tom." She looked at each of them in turn hoping her face projected more 'earnest common sense' rather than Crazy Sookie, but she realized it was a long shot given the Stackhouse Poker Face and the day she'd had. "Since we've had such a long day, and Godric was hurt, and the kids need to wind down and get to bed, maybe we can call it a day? We could pick this up in the morning?"

Sookie threw a beseeching look at each of the reporters. She felt Eric take her hand.

The two reporters communicated silently. It seemed Weiss, having kids of her own, was more willing to call it a night. Lattesta, however, was not interested in going easy on them. He finally responded.

"We don't have to stay long, but we're definitely interested in seeing this farmhouse and hearing about the condo renovation, since it's what brought you two together. Tomorrow may be too busy to get a full tour."

Sookie silently nodded. "Yes, of course." _Count to ten_, she told herself.

The Stackhouses and their extended family gradually gathered themselves and said their goodbyes to Arlene, Charlsie, Terry, and D'Eriq. This time, Maxine, Amelia, and Godric rode with Pam. The two boys and Long Shadow went with Jason in the Passat, while Tara and JB left in JB's SUV. The couple was going back to JB's so Tara could pick up her stuff, not to mention her new-to-me car. Sookie and Eric drove together in the Cabrio, with Eric taking the steering wheel.

As they made their way back to the farm, there was no way of knowing what they'd find back at the farm. Sookie felt uneasy heading home—to Bill—with the reporters in-tow. She sensed trouble in the air. She shivered.

Eric noticed. "You all right, lover?"

She gave him a wan smile. "I'm okay. Just have a funny feeling."

"Funny feeling?"

"Like 'something bad is about to happen' funny feeling."

"Try not to think that way. All things considered, it's gone well."

"Yes, but Bill—"

"Pam will handle Bill."

"Pam seems intent on handling Jason."

"Pam will handle Bill," Eric repeated. He did not want her to worry about this. He took Sookie's hand and, turning it, kissed the inside of her palm.

Sookie shivered in response. In a good way this time. She smiled up at him. "I'm wondering..." she trailed off. _I shouldn't feed his ego. It's already enormous._

"Yes?" He did that eyebrow thing.

"I'm wondering if it'll always be like this..."

He gave Sookie a sideways glance as he continued driving. She swore she could feel heat coming from his eyes. "I don't see why not," he replied somewhat seriously.

_Alrighty then_, Sookie thought. _Viking sex god. Check. Now we just need to get through tonight and tomorrow._

With trepidation, Sookie saw Eric was finally turning onto Hummingbird Lane. _ Won't be long now_, she thought grimly.

* * *

**AN: Hmm, let me think a minute. What's going on at the farm? Oh, that's right. Douche Bag's there, possibly still wearing a Peter Pan costume. And how come Sam wasn't at Merlotte's? I wonder where he went? How come Quinn hasn't stopped by for a visit? I wonder...**


	78. The Contenders?

** Disclaimer: I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**IMPORTANT MESSAGE:**

**During this chapter, you must go to my FF profile and click on a link. It is necessary to get the full effect.**

**The link is: Chapter 78: Quinn's Pants**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Contenders?**

_Earlier that day..._

Following his audition with Pam, Bill had difficulty calming his mind. He found himself unable to think of anything other than the audition. He was relieved when Pam and Maxine left to run errands. He was, however, perplexed as to why they chose to bring the dog with them. Although, he had to concede that he was pleased they took the dog. He did not like the dog.

_I still do not know how I will explain to mother what happened to the Lovat Cover Shawl–Collar Cardigan_? he wondered. He was not looking forward to that conversation. Lorena Ball Compton was not always the most understanding of people.

In any event, Bill, standing behind a curtain by the glass living room doors, had watched while Pam alternated between cajoling and threatening the dog to get into the Cabrio. Bill couldn't hear most of what she said but he did catch snippets here and there, including "do not be a wuss like the Viking" and "we fear the douche bag may do something to you." Putting two and two together, Bill figured she was referring to Eric. Bill had been quite amused to discover Pam apparently held such animosity towards Eric. He couldn't say he was surprised. It was probably very grating having to work with such a conceited, stuck-up, pain-in-the ass all the time. The fact that they shared a dislike of Eric made Bill feel a bit more comfortable in his recent alliance with Pam.

_She knows what a douche bag he is_, thought Bill.

Following Pam and Maxine's departure, Bill attempted once more to settle down in the living room. Unfortunately, he found that he continued to have difficulty focusing his attention on his journal articles. His mind kept wandering back to his audition. He wondered if it had gone as well as he thought. Certainly Pam seemed impressed and she, he was certain, was not one that was easily impressed. Maxine, too, appeared visibly affected by his scene.

After a couple of hours spent on half-hearted attempts to conduct his research, it finally occurred to Bill that perhaps he would be better able to control his focus—and be a successful economist—if he were dressed as a successful economist. Thinking once more about Clint Eastwood and his Man With No Name poncho, Bill decided that wearing the costume of his successful alter ego, the maverick economist determined on reclaiming and saving his damaged woman, was just the thing to reignite his passion for journal articles on the economy. Bill laid down his journal and made his way upstairs to Pam's room.

Once outside her room, Bill tentatively opened Pam's door. Looking around, he realized she, as Sookie had claimed, did indeed have a large bed. Pam's rather extraordinary Martha Stewart tendencies appeared to extend to housekeeping as her room had very little out of place. Not seeing his costume visibly out anywhere, Bill opened the closet door and peered inside. There he was quickly rewarded for his efforts.

Although it had been only a few short hours since he last wore the costume, he felt a profound sense of relief at being reunited with it. It had been far too long. Taking the costume out of the closet, he held it up and just looked at it. He held it in front of him as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.

Bill knew—he just knew—without a doubt that the role was his. It was inconceivable that it should go to anyone other than himself. He, Bill Compton, was that love struck master economist, devoting himself to bringing joy and laughter and light-heartedness to the woman he loved. Holding on tight to the costume on its hanger, Bill started to make his way out of Pam's room. He paused just before walking out when something caught his eye.

Pam's laptop sat on a small, antique vanity table in a corner of the room. _Hmm_, he thought. _I wonder if Pam uploaded my performance to her laptop before she left?_

Figuring if she had, it would come up as one of her most recently opened files he decided to check those first. Sure enough a video file entitled "Operation: DBR" came up with a save time of several hours earlier.

_Hmm, interesting_, Bill thought. Bill made a mental note to ask Pam what the title of the film was. It was quite impossible to decipher from her abbreviated filename. Bill double-clicked on the file. There he was.

The pixie costume, Bill had to concede, looked very dramatic on him. Although he had thought his character was more the type to wear a mustache, he could understand Pam's rationale for his not wearing one.

He sat down at the makeup table to watch a few seconds of his scene.

He took in his performance of his opening lines:

**"I understand your fears."**

_Yes, yes_, he thought. _Now the lips_. He watched his celluloid self lick his lips. _My look of desire is quite compelling._

**"I love you, my young darling. I want to spend endless nights demonstrating my youth and vigor as I pump you wildly like a jackhammer."**

Bill nodded as he watched himself say these lines. He actually stopped it and replayed it several times. As he watched, he was awestruck by how spot on his performance was. Though he hadn't acted since college, it didn't seem to matter.

_I guess it just proves the old adage: when you got it, you got it_, he thought. After watching about a minute of his scene, he stopped the video and closed the file. Suddenly a new thought popped into his head.

_I wonder if Pam forwarded my audition to Russell Edgington yet?_

Without a second thought, Bill clicked on Pam's email program to check if she had any recent messages with attachments to Edgington in her outbox. Seeing that she hadn't sent the director anything with a video file earlier that day, he started to wonder if maybe she had forgotten in her haste to get out of the house to do Eric's bidding.

Bill frowned, thinking about it. He knew how things worked in Hollywood. He knew timing was everything. He figured Pam had had to go out to do something for Eric. Although he liked her much more now than he had previously, he still regarded her as Northman's lackey.

_If I miss this chance because of that arrogant jerk, I don't know that I can be held responsible for my actions_, he thought.

With this in mind, Bill clicked on the 'new message' icon on Pam's email. Finding an email from Edgington in her inbox, Bill copied the address in the 'To' box. In the 'Re' box, he hesitated. He didn't know the name of the film the audition was for. At first, he typed "New Talent Discovery for Role to be Cast." Reviewing it, he grimaced. He changed "New" to "Amazing." He nodded his head.

_Yes_, he thought, _that is better_.

Next he had to figure out what to put in the body of the message. Considering, he started to type.

**Dear Russell,**

Pausing, he reflected on that a few minutes. Deciding that that didn't sound right for Pam, he started again.

**Russell,**

_Much better_, he thought. He continued to type. **Found a new talent. You'd be crazy not to pick him up for the part you're casting now. Absolutely ****crazy.**

**Talk to you whenever.**

**Pam**

Bill reread the message several times. He was more than satisfied with it. He thought he had captured Pam's essence quite well.

Next, he attached the video file to the email and clicked 'send.'

Finally, he retrieved his costume from where he had lain it on Pam's bed and went back to his room to change.

A half hour later found Bill, in costume, sitting in the living room attempting to do his research. Unfortunately, while he was better able to focus his mind, his stomach was now being quite disagreeable, as it was rumbling and grumbling in an unhappy fashion. In addition, he felt that his face was quite flushed.

_Hmm_, he thought, _maybe I shouldn't have eaten so many bran muffins_.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a truck on Hummingbird Lane...

Sam Merlotte thought back to the text message that had appeared on his phone earlier that day. It had said simply:

**Hey Sam - Really good to c u DuRones. Luv 2 catch up more. Stop by this PM if u can. No need to call. ;)**

It was from Sookie Stackhouse, Sam's former employee. Really she hadn't waited tables at Merlotte's that long and she shouldn't have been there to begin with. It was just that jobs were scarce and she needed something that fit in with her schedule. A schedule, Sam recalled, that involved running the Stackhouse household, being in charge of the younger kids, and taking care of their ailing mama.

_Aw, Sook_, Sam thought. _You were always such a wonderful girl_. A little puzzled by the message, Sam had wondered if Sookie was reconsidering her engagement. Sam figured it wasn't a secret that he'd always been a little sweet on her. He thought maybe —_just maybe_— seeing him at the DuRones the other day had prompted something inside her. Maybe a part of her was now thinking... "Sam...maybe..."

Of course, it could also just be a case of mistaken wishful thinking on Sam's part. Even if Sookie did decide not to marry that fiancé of hers, that actor who was staying with them seemed plenty interested if Sam had read the signs right at the DuRones' party.

Finally coming to the turn, Sam made a right off of Hummingbird Lane onto the Stackhouse driveway. As he brought his truck out in front of the farmhouse, he was somewhat surprised that he didn't see Sookie's car. Although, thinking on it, he reasoned that there was a houseful of folks sharing only a handful of cars. Sook had said in her text that she'd be around. He figured she would've sent a text to let him know if she'd changed her plans and wasn't going to be home.

So Sam trotted up the steps and knocked on the door. He peered inside the glass doors of the living room. He thought he saw someone sitting in there. He called out.

"Sookie? Hey? Sook?"

After a few moments, a man with brown hair and dated sideburns opened the front door. Sam, a little stunned, found himself staring at the man.

Sam wasn't much into fashion. He would definitely not meet anyone's standards of a well-dressed metrosexual. He pretty much lived in Levis, tight t-shirts, and flannel. But he knew he looked good in them. This guy was wearing a Peter Pan costume. He was sporting a band-aid under his nose. It looked a little like a Hitler mustache. All in all, the guy did not look good.

"Yes?" The man –_was this the fiancé? _Sam wondered_—_asked in a slightly dismissive tone.

"Hi. My name's Sam Merlotte. I'm here to see Sookie."

"Oh? Are you? Well, she's out," Bill frowned. "She's supposed to be back soon. I guess you can wait. But I'm very busy. I can't take the time to entertain you."

Bill said all this very abruptly, a look of irritation on his face.

Sam, at that moment, was taking a full appraisal of the guy. He figured the likelihood of the guy being able to "entertain" him or anyone else was pretty fucking low.

_Actually_, Sam amended his thought, _kicking his ass would probably be fun. Watching him do whatever he did to himself to earn the bandaid probably would've been fun. _

"Well, if Sook's due back soon, I can definitely wait a bit. Before Sunday, I hadn't seen her in a while. She used to work for me back when she was in high school. She texted me she'd be home right about now and said to stop by so we could catch up."

"Oh, well," Bill replied, "I don't know anything about that." Standing in the doorway, the man began to impatiently look around. "I'm sorry but I have very important work that needs to be done. I'm an _e-con-o- mist_." Bill sounded it out slowly, phonetically. "That means I write journal articles informing people about the state of the economy."

_Is this asshat for real? _thought Sam. _How can he possibly think I don't know what an economist is?_

"Oh, great. Yeah, that's really good. I'm a _bar-ten-der_," Sam mimicked Bill's inflection. "I give people drinks in a bar as they complain about the _e-con-o-mists _that fucked up the economy."

Bill made a face like he was constipated. "I know what a bartender is."

"Yeah, and I know what an economist is." Sam replied.

"Oh, you do?" Bill appeared truly puzzled. "I would not have thought anyone in Bon Temps would have met an economist before."

_Was this jackoff looking to get his ass kicked? _Sam was nearly beside himself. "You don't need to have met an economist to know what one is. Hell, I've never met a vampire, but I know what one is. Are you saying the only way you can know what a vampire is is by meeting one?"

Ignoring his question, Bill just stared at Sam. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree then."

_What? _Sam's eyes were rolling. _This dickbag doesn't even make any sense._

Bill walked into the house. Sam followed him inside and shut the door behind them. As Sam trailed after Bill into the living room, he tried to make small talk.

"You a big Peter Pan fan?"

"It is a costume. I do not normally dress like this."

_No shit? For fucks sake, what is wrong with this guy? Maybe there's something I'm not seeing? _Sam told himself. _Sook's a smart girl. Why the hell would she have involved herself with a complete tool?_

"So, how long you and Sook been dating?"

"We are not dating. We are affianced. We have known each other ten months."

"Come again?" Sam asked.

"We are affianced." Bill winced as he sat down on one of the love seats.

Sam sat on the other love seat. "What the heck does that mean?"

"It means we are to marry." Bill made the constipated face once more.

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded. "Could've just said you were engaged."

Sam was thunderstruck over Sookie's fiancé. He was wondering if the guy was always such a jerk or if it was the cut on his face or the obvious bout with constipation that had him acting like such a jackoff.

All of a sudden Bill looked positively green. He looked so awful that Sam actually felt a moment's remorse for being so hard on the douche bag. Despite his fucking horrendous disposition, the guy was obviously hurting.

"Hey man, you all right?" asked Sam.

"Ah, this Louisiana cooking is not good for my stomach lining."

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded. _Stomach lining? _"Yeah, I hate when that happens."

"Also," Bill was grimacing. "I don't stay very regular when I travel."

_Jesus H. Christ. So stay home, douche bag. Stay home. _"Uh-huh. Yeah. Traveling. Not always easy." Sam glanced down at his watch. Where the hell was Sookie? He wasn't sure how much longer he could handle hanging out with Mr. Irregularity.

"Yes, I seem to have developed an irritable bowel," Bill made his pained face once more and abruptly stood up. His face was very flushed now and he appeared to be taking shallow breaths similar to those an expectant mother might learn in Lamaze class. Holding his butt cheeks tightly pulled in he announced, "I'm having a situation."

"No problem, man. You take care of your constitutional. I'm cool."

Bill race-walked to the hall bathroom making slight "oh" groans.

With Bill's emergency departure for the bathroom, Sam was left alone in the living room with only his thoughts. Well, his thoughts and his disturbing memories of the past five minutes.

_Damn. What the fuck is wrong with Sookie? Girl has gotta be out of her goddamn mind. I've only known the guy for five fucking minutes and I feel like killing myself._

Ten minutes later, Sam still sat alone in the living room waiting for Bill to return. Another ten minutes passed. Then another ten. The more Sam sat, the more conscious he became of the fact that a few yards away a man was apparently shitting himself into oblivion. Finally, after nearly three quarters of an hour, Sam decided it was time to leave.

Standing up, Sam glanced out the window. He was surprised to see a car turn onto the driveway. It wasn't Sookie's car. He wasn't sure whose car it was. Once the car—a Lincoln Continental—cleared the bushes Sam could identify the driver.

_Enter the home grown douche bag_, Sam thought as he recognized the new arrival. Sam left the living room and walked to the front door.

John Quinn was the size of a tree. Tall, broad and bald, he was the kind of man who got a lot of attention. Not necessarily in a good way.

The Lincoln parked, Quinn slammed the car door shut and jogged up to the house. He came barreling up the porch steps and was about to knock on the door when Sam swung it open.

_Jesus H. Christ_! Sam thought._ Now what the fuck was Quinn wearing?_

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**_STOP! QUICK GO VIEW THE LINK: SEE MY FF PROFILE - Chapter 78: Quinn's Pants_**

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"Sam Merlotte!" Quinn boomed. "What're you doing here?"

"Stopped by to say hello to Sook. You?"

"Same. Heard from Terry Bellefleur that she was home."

"Well, she is in Bon Temps, but she's not here right now. I've been here for nearly an hour waiting for her. She's supposed to be home soon. Her boyfriend...er...fiancé is the only one in there. He's in the bathroom. Why don't you wait in the living room and just introduce yourself when he comes out?"

"Uh, yeah. Uh, I guess." Quinn bobbed his head.

"Interesting pants you got there, Quinn. Get 'em at the mall in Monroe?" asked Sam.

"Aw, no, man," Quinn looked down at his pants. "No, these are special pants. They're called harem skinny jeans. I ordered them from the computer. Frannie helped me."

Sam nodded. Frannie, Sam knew, was Quinn's younger, smarter sister. "Well, they're pretty different. I'll grant you that."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, nodding again. "They're trendy. But the best part is," Quinn stopped talking and, bending, he did several squats with his arms open wide. "See that? You see that? Huh? You see that?"

"Yeah," answered Sam. "What'm I seeing?"

"Even though they're skinny jeans and my butt and legs look real good in them, I can do squats with 'em on." Quinn looked at Sam like he'd just revealed one of the mysteries of the universe.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I saw you do the squats, Quinn. I was standing right here."

Incredulous, Quinn stared at Sam like he was the biggest idiot he'd ever encountered.

_Fuck_. Sam felt like shooting Quinn.

"Sam, you're not putting two and two together." Quinn demonstrated his reference by holding up two fingers on each hand and bringing his two hands together.

Quinn then walked over to stand next to Sam and threw an arm around the shorter man. "You're not using your i-ma-gi-na-tion. If you've got space for squats, you've got plenty of room to make sure," Quinn leaned in to speak directly into Sam's ear, "your junk is well cared for."

_For fucks sake! _It was all Sam could do not to burst out laughing. Somehow he managed to stifle the snort that was threatening to escape and merely nodded. Really, it was his own fault. He should have known with Quinn that that was where the conversation would go.

"That's good, Quinn. Real good."

"Yeah, it sure is! I found out the underwear I was wearing were too tight. Had to switch to boxers. But what's the point of wearing boxers and having all that breathing room, that sway space," Quinn made a gesture at his crotch with his hand, demonstrating exactly what 'sway space' was. "What's the point of having that boxer sway, if you're just gonna jam up the boys with tight jeans?"

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded again. _Another one. Completely out of his fucking mind_. "Well, I'm wondering why you don't just buy loose fit jeans?"

"Naw," Quinn waved his hand at the suggestion. "I've been wearing tight jeans since the first time I dry- humped Ellie Hopper in the backseat of my dad's car when I was seventeen. It's like my trademark."

"Uh-huh," Sam made a noncommittal noise.

Quinn, watching his friend, was still not sure the bartender was getting it.

"Sam, it's like this: If my junk _ain't _happy," Quinn paused for emphasis, "I _ain't _happy. That's my motto."

"Yeah, Quinn," Sam nodded. "Probably a good motto for you. Well, it's been real catching up with you. I need to get back to the bar. Tell Sook I said hi and I'll catch up with her over the weekend."

"Aw, sure, Sam. Take it easy, man." They shook hands. As Sam started down the porch steps towards his truck, Quinn called out after him. "Hey, Sam! Remember! It's all about the 'sway space'!" Quinn did a little dance on the porch, demonstrating to Sam the importance of 'sway space.'

Sam nodded but didn't say anything as he made his way down the porch steps and over to his truck. Taking a breath, he vowed right then and there to focus his attentions on Daphne and stop being such a dog when it came to women. Sookie was terrific, but it was obviously not gonna happen between the two of them. Whatever potential they might have had, the window of opportunity was definitely shut by now. He knew she looked up to him as an older brother more than anything else.

Getting into his truck, Sam smiled grimly to himself that maybe he ought to be tearing out of there, tires squealing and all. Having just encountered two of her boyfriend selections back to back, Sam could not help but recognize the fact that _not _hooking up with Sookie Stackhouse could very well be the smartest fucking thing he ever did in his life.

God knows, he loved her, but Sookie apparently exclusively dated only bottom-feeders. Having met both Quinn and Bill only _after _they were involved with Sookie, Sam didn't know if they started out as sea creatures or if they had possibly started out somewhat normal and gradually morphed over time into bottom-feeders.

Ultimately, it didn't matter. Sam was a well-liked and well-respected business owner. If hanging out with Sookie put him on a path to being that jackoff on the toilet or Quinn with his 'sway space,' well, Sam couldn't have that. He'd always had a soft spot for Sookie but he couldn't allow any misguided attractions to set him on a path he might one day regret.

_Best to let sleeping dogs lie_, he thought.

As Sam made his way back onto Hummingbird Lane, he thought he might stop by the flower shop and pick up something nice as a surprise for Daphne. As his thoughts went to Daphne, he couldn't help the smile from forming on his face.

_Doe-eyed and gentle, Daph's a sweetie_, he thought.

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**AN: Quick Sam! Drive! Get out of there! You don't want to be a part of what's going down next! LMAO! Speaking of LMAO, please somebody go vote for Bill! I nearly wet myself every time I edit one of his insane diatribes. OMG! You all know there's a Funniest ROTSS Character Poll on my FF Profile? **


	79. Everyone Gets What They Effin' Deserve

**Disclaimer: I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Nine: Everyone Gets What They Effin' Deserve**

Inside the Stackhouse farm, Quinn wandered catlike down the hallway before ambling into the living room. Glancing around, he noted that it appeared pretty much unchanged since the last time he'd been inside the house. He figured that would've been maybe five years before. He sat on the recliner.

_Oh, yeah, this is comfortable_, he thought as he stuck a hand down his pants to rearrange his "junk," and make himself even more comfortable. He kicked the LazyBoy into the recline position, and curled up on his side.

As John, or Quinn as he was more commonly known, laid back in the recliner he thought about Sookie.

Sookie Stackhouse. What a babe. Gorgeous blond hair. Those big blue eyes. He'd really enjoyed the time they'd spent together. He wished they'd had more time together. He could still remember that day she broke things off. They'd spent the day at his circus—E(E)E Circus — and then out to dinner. He loved eating with her. They'd finished eating and, as their table was being cleared, Sookie told him she thought it best that they start to see other people. Quinn could still remember how flabbergasted he'd been. To his mind, things between them were A-OK. He could still remember word for word what he'd said to her back then, trying to convince her to stick it out.

"Babe, I don't know what to say. I care about you, and I love spending time with you. I love going to bed with you. I like eating at the table with you," he gestured at their almost-empty table. "I like cooking together. I like almost everything about you. But I'm not good at sharing."

Recalling the expression on her face as he said that, he'd have to say it almost looked like relief. But Quinn knew it couldn't have been that.

"So, what you're saying, Quinn," Sookie was nodding thoughtfully, "is that if I say I want to see other people, you're not good at sharing. So, it's either we're exclusive or we're broken up? Is that right?"

As heartsick as the idea of breaking up with Sookie made him feel, Quinn knew he couldn't share. He'd be crazy every time he smelled some other guy on her or if he called her up and she said she had a date with someone else. So, their relationship ended. Sadly, Quinn felt it ended before it began since they'd only dated a few months and had only managed to go out on a handful of real dates. Quinn's job as a driver for E(E)E Circus meant he was often on the road back then.

But things were different now. Quinn was much more settled. If ever there was a situation conducive to him and the "babe" being together, his current gig was it. Quinn worked as a bouncer for Hair of the Dog, the toughest bar in Shreveport. Although he'd held a variety of exciting travel-related jobs over the years—such as the gig chauffeuring the circus tigers—he found himself surprisingly content with the current bouncer gig. Quinn's physical size and intimidating presence more than made up for whatever he may have lacked in intelligence or people skills. Despite the fact that he wasn't able to reason with drunkards to get them to calm down, he still was able to keep transgressions at a minimum. Yeah, it was good. He was pretty pleased with things, especially considering how tough of a time he'd been having before landing the bouncer gig.

Quinn had spent the better part of a year and a half attempting to become an Emergency Medical Technician (EMT). He'd gone through two semesters of training, as well as watching a lot of movies and stuff on You Tube. He knew he could do it. But he needed to convince an ambulance company. He wasn't having much success with that, on account of a very bizarre thing that one member of the team had heard.

A friend of this EMT, a Monroe native who dated a Bon Temps resident for a while, said they had seen Quinn at a local football game a couple of years earlier. They claimed that Quinn had spent most of the game focused not on the action on the field but on a bleeding cut on his own leg. It was so bizarre the guy had asked his date, Holly, who the bald leg-licker was and she'd told him the name and it had stuck with him.

The hiring committee confronted Quinn with the allegation and Quinn insisted it was a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, despite Quinn's repeated avowals that he was just "tryin' to help a brother out," the team still refused to take him on. They figured if Quinn did, in fact, have a compulsion to lick blood, the liability for a Parish-run ambulance company was too great. Since they had Holly over in the town saying she was sure she could get footage of the game, with Quinn clearly visible going to town on his leg in the background, they'd staunchly held their position.

Quinn had no means for recourse. This was largely due to the fact that, despite Quinn's denials, the assertions were, in fact, true. Since childhood, Quinn had been afflicted with a very rare, very odd abnormality.

If John Quinn was in proximity to a wound of any kind—open, festering scrapes, cuts, abrasions, bad rashes —the Mr. Clean lookalike experienced an overwhelming compulsion to lick it. The condition, called sanguinarianism, was still a medical mystery. Sadly, although he attempted to mask it as best he could, this compulsion to lick blood from wounds remained a major force guiding much of Quinn's adult life.

Content with the idea that soon he'd be seeing his former girlfriend, Quinn settled himself into his favorite sleeping position. Once so arranged, he promptly fell asleep.

Nearly a half hour later, Bill finally emerged from his "constitutional" feeling lighter, if not better. Bill gently eased his way into the living room to find, instead of the wiry shaggy-haired bartender he'd left there, a large bald-headed man asleep on one of the recliners.

_Who's this? _He wondered. _He looks like a giant bald-headed baby._

Indeed, Quinn, with his bald head, curled on his side in the fetal position, did look very much like an oversized baby. Bill noted that the man even, oddly enough, seemed to be sucking on his thumb.

Bill leaned down in front on the man, putting his head up close to the giant's bulbous head.

"Excuse me. Excuse me." Bill shook the man's shoulder several times.

"Rrr," Quinn awoke with a start. His eyes—a unique purple pansy color— flew open and darted wildly around the room before settling on the figure before him. Once focused, they were quick to spy on something very special indeed: a band-aid. Quinn could not look away.

Bill, oblivious to the effect his band-aid was having, continued in his attempts to get Quinn's attention.

"Excuse, me. Uh, sir," Bill continued to poke at Quinn's shoulder. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Quinn, awake, removed his thumb—with its deliciously torn cuticle—from his mouth.

With Bill's face so enticingly close to his own, Quinn had a hard time focusing on anything other than that band-aid. Band-aids above the lip usually meant one thing: razor cuts. Quinn loved razor cuts. Maybe it was because they were usually the neatest and cleanest of all cuts. Other types of abrasions were often dirty or messy. A tumble on a sidewalk would result in some bloodletting, but often the abrasion would have sand and tiny pebbles from the concrete embedded under the skin. Not always the most enjoyable of licks.

Still Quinn needed to know what was going on underneath Bill's band-aid. Without warning, he yanked the band-aid from Bill's face.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Bill's hand shot up to his face. He gingerly touched the raw flesh above his lip. "What is the matter with you, sir? I don't even know who you are and you are accosting me."

Bill's words, however, fell on deaf ears. Quinn was, at that moment, incapable of hearing anything. Truthfully, the man was not seeing anything other than the delectable abrasions on Bill's upper lip. His gaze fixated on Bill's torn flesh, Quinn unconsciously began licking his lips.

Bill, meanwhile, had gone from wondering who the gigantic buffoon on the Lazy Boy was to being somewhat concerned by the man's rather eerie, hungry look.

_He is staring at my face like I am a piece of filet mignon_, Bill thought.

Bill's self-preservation instincts kicking into gear, he started to back away from Quinn. Unfortunately, still feeling rather poorly from his severe bout of diarrhea, Bill was not up to snuff. His movements were slow and jerky.

Quinn wanted nothing more than to lick the blood off Bill's facial wound. But he figured he ought to respond to Bill's questions. It also penetrated Quinn's sleep-addled consciousness that the guy was wearing a Peter Pan costume.

"Sorry 'bout that, man," Quinn pulled the LazyBoy up. "I wake up a bit confused sometimes. I just saw your face in front of me and ...uh...your costume...and I...uh figured I needed to remove the band-aid."

Bill just stared at the man.

"Well," Bill's tone was a combination of disbelief and disgust, "you accosted me and you still have yet to explain who you are."

The bald man leapt up then and was surprisingly agile in his big man harem skinny jeans.

"Name's John Quinn," Quinn put a hand out to Bill. "I'm an old friend of Sookie's. I guess you could say I'm the one who got away." Quinn winked, to indicate his comment was, in fact, a joke.

Bill, however, was not in the mood for jokes.

"Yes, well, hello," Bill frowned. "I am Bill Compton. I am Sookie's fiancé. Is there some reason for your visit and for your attack on my person?"

"I already explained, man." Quinn nodded his head. His first instinct to be apologetic was falling by the wayside. He was getting a bad feeling about this Compton guy. "I'm a _friend_," he emphasized this word, "of Sookie's. I heard she was in town and stopped by for a visit. Sam let me in."

"Yes." Bill knew he didn't care for that shifty long-haired _bartender_. This action confirmed it for him. "Sookie is not at home right at present. She is out with her" Bill sneered as he spat out the word, "young _siblings_."

Quinn's gaze shot to Bill. The venom was so transparent in the man's voice even Quinn could discern it. "What? You don't like the kids?"

Bill, comfortable in the notion that he had no cause to rein in his true feelings on this matter with this complete stranger—who obviously meant little to Sookie as she had never mentioned him, opted to be honest.

"I can't stand those juvenile delinquents," Bill snarled. "It's a good thing her older siblings came home when they did. If those three vicious, evil demons moved to Dallas to be near Sookie, I would have no alternative but to insist that they all be placed in boarding school."

Meeting his gaze full on, Quinn stared at Bill. He was really not liking this guy. Although he and Sook hadn't been an item very long and it was a long time ago, they'd remained friendly. She was always nice to him when they would bump into one another –at the football games or at the Wal-Mart or even at Merlotte's once in a blue moon. She certainly deserved someone better than this hateful jerk.

"Ah, man," Quinn shook his head. "That's not right. Sookie's the nearest thing to a mom those kids have. You can't do that to her. You can't make someone choose you over their family. It ain't right, man."

Bill just looked at Quinn. Taking a good look, his glance captured the man's strange jeans. _A hippie, no doubt_, he thought to himself. The two men stood, in an increasingly heated stare down, less than a foot from one another.

Finally, Quinn, realizing he was standing too close to the LazyBoy and was at risk of losing his balance, made a motion to step forward.

Bill, his neurological response system reading the baldheaded man's approach as a threat, promptly—and without thought—kneed Quinn as hard as he could.

"AH! AH! OW! OW!" Quinn could barely speak. Doubled over in pain, he could only manage to sputter out a few words. "Dude! My junk! My junk! Aw, man!" He winced and sighed deeply. "Why'd you kick me in my junk, man?" He looked up at Bill, anger visible in his eyes.

Bill, staring at Quinn, finally realized the error of his ways. It was beginning to dawn on him how unwise it had been to kick Quinn, who had practically been foaming at the mouth like some kind of rabid animal _before Bill had kicked him_. Now he really looked as though he wanted to kill Bill. Unfortunately, the man seemed to be quickly recovering from the kick to his "junk."

Bill, seeing the tenuousness of his predicament, began to move away from Quinn. He'd only made it a few feet when Quinn tackled him to the floor. The two men landed in a heap.

Afraid, Bill began to scream. "Ah, no! No! No! AAAAWWWWW!" He thrashed around on the floor.

Quinn's giant hands, like an animal's paws, reached out to Bill. With one meaty paw on either side of Bill's head, Quinn brought Bill's face closer to him. His tongue hung out of his mouth, as if in anticipation.

Bill managed another sucker kick and kneed Quinn a second time in his much cared for "junk." Quinn emitted a bloodcurdling scream.

"OOOOWWWWWWEEEEEEHHHHH!"

Bill took advantage of this opportunity to roll away from Quinn and position himself behind the coffee table, which he turned on its side like a fort.

Quinn, lying curled up in the fetal position again, whimpered on the other side of the table. Finally he quieted down.

Bill, taking comfort in the fact that the other man was quiet, got up on his hands and knees and attempted to crawl to safety. His plan was to crawl out to the hallway and then make a run for his car. He just needed to make sure he had his keys. Peering upward, he saw that his keys were where he left them on top of the table. He slowly got up on his knees and stretched over to grab the keys from the table.

With a catlike grace and precision, Quinn maneuvered himself behind Bill without Bill realizing.

"Gotcha!" Quinn growled before leaping on top of Bill once more. This time the two landed hard on the coffee table, causing several legs to crack and break under their weight. Together, the two men rolled around on the floor. Bill attempted to hold Quinn's oversized head away from his own by placing a hand on either side and pushing back.

Quinn, however, was determined.

Bill was getting incensed. Whereas Quinn definitely had a size advantage over Bill, Bill knew he was smarter.

"Yeah, yeah, oh yeah. You think you're such an animal, don't you? A real animal? Huh, tiger?"

Finally it occurred to Bill to use his legs to keep Quinn away from him. Bringing his knees to his chest he tried to use his marginally stronger than a fifth grader's leg muscles to push Quinn away.

Suddenly they heard a sound. Pffft. _Uh oh_, thought Bill. Quinn was shaken out of his rage stupor. Smelling something, he made a face. "Pee-ew! What smells like shit around here!"

"Ah...ah...ah. I seem to have had an accident. In my pants."

"Oh. Ew. That's pretty fucking disgusting, man."

So engrossed were the two men in their melee, that they hadn't heard the cars approach. They failed to hear the door open, and they were oblivious to the fact that a dozen people had stomped into the house and were now avidly watching them from the entrance of the living room.

Eric and Sookie stood front and center, flanked by the two reporters. Pam, Maxine, Godric, and the remaining Stackhouses brought up the rear.

Dead silence filled the air. Everyone was so still—barely breathing— a pin hitting the floor would have sounded like a death knell.

Finally, Eric Northman cleared his throat. Looking up, Quinn saw Sookie. His eyes lit up at the sight of his former girlfriend. "Hey Babe." He smiled.

"Uh, hi Quinn." Crazy Sookie smile in place. She knew there were questions she ought to be asking but she couldn't think of them if her life depended on it. She turned to look at Eric, whose eyes were still focused on the scene before them. She turned her attention back to Quinn and Bill.

Bill, too, was happy to see Sookie, but for an altogether different reason.

"Sookie, thank goodness." Bill opened his eyes wide as he turned to face Sookie. "Obviously, I've imposed myself upon your hospitality long enough. I really ought," his eyes opened wide again, "to be getting back to Dallas."

_Hmm_, Sookie thought, _did I just hear the jackass say he was finally ready to leave? Maybe I'm hearing things __because I'm in shock?_

Hunter, being the youngest and the smallest, couldn't see what was going on from where he stood in the back of the troop. Deciding he wanted a better view, the boy transformed himself into the artful dodger and slinked around his brothers and sisters and other honorary family members until he finally secured himself a spot in the front.

Looking at the spectacle on the floor, Hunter made a face. Quinn's tongue was hanging outside his mouth —_big surprise there_, thought Hunter. Quinn's hands were on the floor, on either side of Bill's chest. Meanwhile, the Douche Bag—wearing a Peter Pan costume—had one of his hands placed on either side of Quinn's head. Together in a huddle, the two kinda looked like they were about to kiss. Suddenly, the smell hit Hunter.

As he watched the scene in front of him, Hunter was reminded of something. He turned around to face Eric and Sookie and pose his question to them.

"Hey Sookie." He tugged his sister's arm to get her attention. "Is that bukaki?"

Sookie, her face switching from shock to silent horror, turned to her youngest brother and opened her mouth as if to scream. But no sound came forth. Only silence. She opened and closed her mouth several times before finally stuttering a question.

"Hunter Stackhouse," she bent down to face him, "where the hell did you hear that word?" As soon as the question hung in the air, she knew the answer: Felipe De Castro.

Sure enough, Hunter's response confirmed her suspicions.

"Aw, that Felipe! He's got a special movie collection. He doesn't tell us what's in it but he gives hints and lets us guess for fun sometimes."

Suddenly Weiss and Lattesta got over their shock and switched into gear. Lattesta grabbed his camera and started snapping photos of the two man caught up in a huddle. Weiss, meanwhile, turned to Sookie and Eric and began her interview.

"Sookie," she said. "You seem to know both the men engaged in a sexual act on the floor of your living room. Do you have a comment?"

Sookie's eyes looked as though they were going to roll to the back in her head. Pandemonium broke out as all the Stackhouses started talking at once.

"Hey, you got your story! That ain't fair—"

"We just walked in here same as you—"

"Sex? You think that's sex? For fucks sake, you need to look at some different magazines!"

"Lattesta. Weiss." Finally Pam weighed in. "This man, in the Peter Pan costume, is a would-be actor I invited to interview for a part I am helping to cast. I left him here when I realized I needed to get Eric's guardian papers to the hospital so that they'd release the boy into Eric's custody. I do not know who the bald man is, but he is obviously a simpleton—"

"Hey, bitch!" Quinn interrupted. "I can hear you!"

"Yes, you can hear me." Pam looked at him coldly. "You are attacking a much smaller man who has soiled himself for fear of you. An entire family has just returned home, including young children. Yet you have made no effort to halt your aggression."

A confused look came over Quinn's face as he struggled to understand what Pam said.

"Oh, uh." He pushed himself off of Bill and jumped to his feet. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Truthfully, he wasn't really sure what she said, but he figured the fight was over. He continued to look at Pam, who stood with a half sneer/half smile on her face. _Hot_, he thought. "I don't think we've met, babe." He offered his hand to her. "My name's John Quinn."

Pam just glared at him. "Well, if I did not prefer the company of women before today, I certainly do now."

Suddenly there was a throat being cleared. Pam glanced behind her. Jason was giving her a wide-eyed look and nodding his head.

_Right. Stackhouse_, she thought.

"And Jason," she corrected her statement for the benefit of the reporters. "I enjoy women and Jason."

"Uh, thanks a lot, Pam." Jason gave her a strange look.

Pam, meanwhile, just shrugged and gave Jason her "Who Me" look.

Sookie, calmer and more collected following the few moments' respite she'd had while Pam was in charge, suddenly woke up. Rather, Barracuda Sookie suddenly woke up.

"Everyone," she paused to give those around her a moment to hear her. Not satisfied, she tried again, louder. "_EVERYONE _whose last name is not Stackhouse, Northman, Ravenscroft, Fortenberry, or, "she stopped at Godric — _what the heck is this kid's last name again?__ —_"Godric, needs to get the hell out of my house. RIGHT. THIS. MINUTE." She turned to look at the reporters. "I don't care. You've got plenty of crap on us. You're gonna write whatever fucked up shit you wanna write _anyway_!" Eric winced while Pam's face was thoughtful. "I think we've been _more than accommodating_. We let you come with us to the _hospital _for crissakes! Enough! Get out! Get out! Get out!"

Weiss and Lattesta, shocked into submission, scrambled to collect their belongings and make their way out to their car. Pam followed them.

Eric hadn't taken his eyes off of Sookie. An interplay of dueling emotions was evident on his face. Annoyed and concerned at the way she summarily dismissed the reporters, he couldn't help but also feel proud of her.

Maxine watched the unfolding drama with her characteristic "O," while Godric just stared silently, his eyes open wide. Finally he leaned over to Amelia and asked her a question.

"Elle est toujours en colère?" [Is she always angry?]

"Aucune. Elle est en situation de stress. Elle est généralement agréable. N'ayez pas peur."

[No. She's under stress. She's generally pleasant. Don't be afraid."]

Amelia took Godric's hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Reassured by her words, he nodded and smiled at her.

The Stackhouse siblings knew better than to interrupt. This wasn't just Sookie being upset. This was Sookie being upset after holding it in for days.

Next Sookie turned to Quinn.

"Quinn," her voice was an icy calm. "I'm glad you're not dead or in jail. Really. I am. However, I gotta say the last thing I expected to find coming home tonight—and believe me, it's been a long friggin' day and I've learned to be ready for anything—but I gotta say, coming home to find you mounting my ex-fiance, ready to kick his ass was STILL AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LIST OF THINGS I EXPECTED TO FIND."

"Aw, Babe." Quinn tried to win her over by using his old nickname for her. It didn't work.

"Oh, yeah, Quinn? About that. I FUCKING HATE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME THAT! What the hell is wrong with you? That's not sweet! Or endearing! It's just lame-brained is what it is! You threatened a guest in my home. I need you to leave."

"But, Babe..." Quinn knew if he could just explain, she'd get it. "I—"

"Quinn, I know you're a bouncer at a club in Shreveport. Probably wouldn't be good for you if you're arrested, right?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied. "I mean no. It wouldn't be good."

"Well, that's what'll happen if I call the Sheriff."

"Uh," he shook his head. "No. No need to do that. I'll get going."

"Thank you," Sookie nodded.

Quinn nodded to Eric, Maxine, Tara and Jason and gave a small smile to the kids. Hunter shot a shit-eating grin at Quinn and mouthed "bye" to him while waving with both hands.

Finally Sookie turned her attention to Bill. Bill, who continued to lie on the floor in his now-soiled Peter Pan costume.

"Bill," she started.

"Yes, Sookie," his voice was wary.

"I did hear you right, didn't I? You're anxious to get back to Dallas?" She paused giving him an opportunity to reply. He was silent. "Bill, all I gotta do is call Quinn, say I'm sorry, and he'll be back here in five minutes to finish you off." She waited a few seconds. "So?"

"Yes, I'm ready to leave. I want to get out of this little corner of hell on earth, believe me. But—" He broke off his words.

"But what, Bill? What more is there possibly left to say?"

"I don't feel very well." Everyone stood and stared as the sound of Bill's stomach growling could be heard. "I think I may need to see a doctor or something."

"Ah, fuck," Sookie muttered. Looking up, her eyes met Eric's. For the first time since her meltdown began, it occurred to her that Eric might be angry about her throwing the reporters out of the house. Seeing his expressionless face, she felt her heart drop.

Seeing worry lines gradually appearing on Sookie's otherwise relieved face shook Eric out of his reverie. Suddenly he let out a snort of laughter. He continued laughing. He pulled Sookie into his arms and buried his face into her neck still laughing. Sookie started to laugh too.

"Wait a minute." She had to ask. "You're not angry with me? You're okay with me throwing the reporters out?"

"Sookie, you're too amusing when you're like that. As long as its not directed at me, I can handle it." He shrugged. "And technically, you're right. The reporters had more than their due with us today. Pam—" he glanced around and noted his friend's presence, "caught up with them." He directed his next words to Pam. "Did you smooth things over?"

"Yes," Pam nodded. "I received a text from Russell's husband, Talbot. Apparently Russell tasked him with finding something for you to do with the kids tomorrow. You're going to something called" she paused and looked at her cell phone, "Splash Kingdom."

"Splash Kingdom! Splash Kingdom! Splash Kingdom!" The three Teacup Stackhouses screamed.

Pam, disconcerted, stopped speaking.

"You three, hush," scolded Sookie. "Let Pam finish."

"Thank you, Sookie. Talbot sent along links to reviews of the place." Pam hit a few keys on her phone. "Someone named Francisco reports:

I DIDNT LIKE THE POOLS. ALL OF THEM WERE DIRTY AND MY FAMILY GOT SICK THE NEXT DAY. THERE WERE DEAD FROGS IN THE WATER."

Pam looked up with a smile. "This is no doubt more of Talbot's fairy intrigue," Pam continued. "He is always looking to make mischief."

Eric sighed. Sookie threw Pam a WTF look. Maxine nodded as if agreeing with Pam. The kids exchanged looks with each other. Then erupted once more.

"Splash Kingdom! Woohoo! We're going to Splash Kingdom!" Hunter and Hoyt exchanged high-fives.

"Awesome!" Amelia jumped up and down. Noticing Godric's blank stare, she stopped. Finally she realized she had no idea how to say "amusement park" in French. Looking at him she said the only thing she could think of that might get the message across.

"Il est semblable à Euro Disney." [It is similar to Euro Disney.] Godric nodded his head and clapped his hands in understanding. "We are going to Disney World!" Amelia burst out laughing.

Sookie nodded hear head. All right, that was settled. They were taking the kids to Splash Kingdom, where they might encounter dead frogs. She couldn't say she cared. As long as they could have their day out, and the reporters weren't on top of them, she'd agree to go anywhere.

"Fine." She looked at the kids. "So, tomorrow we're going to Splash Kingdom. You three—four need to get some sleep. Amelia, Godric can take Bill's room." She turned to Bill, who was still lying prone on the floor. "Bill, shall we call you an ambulance? Or do you think you can drive yourself to the hospital?"

* * *

**AN: Whew! I mean Pew! Was it the bran muffins or did someone actually put the diarrhea spell on him? Anyway, really only the Epilogue chapters after this. If you think, "what about?" Well, I really did set it up for a sequel, which will become especially evident with Chapter 81. **

**Thanks for reading/reviewing/PMing/feeding me ideas. It's been a lot of fun. Thank you. **

**:D**


	80. The Lafayette Bar and Grill

******Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**  


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**Chapter Eighty: ****The Lafayette Bar and Grill**

After the Splash Kingdom outing with the reporters—during which no dead frogs were spotted and no one became ill—the Stackhouses—including Eric and Godric, but miraculously absent the reporters—stopped off at Godric's hotel to gather his belongings and settle his bill. Later that night, Godric called his parents in Denmark to let them know he had moved. Eric was able to speak with them and explain the situation. Fortunately, the Christiansens were Eric Northman fans and the news that Eric would be looking out for their son while he was in the U.S. thrilled the couple who had been worried about their son. Eric promised God's parents that he'd go out and help the boy buy a laptop so that they would soon be able to talk via Skype.

With Bill finally—blessedly—out of the house, the "family" was able to fall into a relatively comfortable routine. All was calm— or as calm as things could be for a household comprised of six siblings, three Hollywood ex-patriots, and a retired urban planner from New York.

Eric and Pam both eventually picked up all their belongings and checked out of their hotel suites and settled in at the farm.

The Teacups' clothing and belongings—including bikes—arrived by UPS the Saturday following Bill's departure. With this, the kids were able to settle back into their rooms. Although, of course, then they wanted things fixed up and changed from how the tenants had them. Sookie placated them with the compromise that they'd paint once summer started and school was done, but nothing new until after the renovations to Eric's wing were completed.

Amelia was tickled pink to have Godric staying with them. She was surprised by the fact that Godric being around pleased her more than Douche Bag being gone did. Hoyt and Hunter gradually got used to having another boy around. Even though he seemed to really like hanging out with Ame, when their sister needed to devote time to her "craft" or do "girl stuff," inevitably they'd wind up with God. They realized the kid was okay. They couldn't talk to him like Ame could, but they were getting better. Amelia took the opportunity when she could to try to teach him common Stackhouse words. Hunt and Hoyt hadn't realized how quickly he was progressing in English until, one day, they were playing video games —a universal language of sorts—and Hunter sunk God's battleship after telling him they were pausing the game.

Godric, shocked, looked at Hunter and, shaking his head, uttered the words, "cheating jackass."

"Shit, Hunt," Hoyt burst out laughing, "those are like his first words in English!"

"Aw, shut up," Hunter gave his brother the evil eye, "I said we were _gonna _hit pause. I didn't say we were gonna do it right _then_."

Godric, whether he knew exactly what Hunter was saying or not, knew enough to know the younger boy was backpedaling. God rolled his eyes at Hunter's excuses, prompting Hoyt to laugh even harder.

Maxine, meanwhile, decided to take a trip up to New York to see about settling her affairs. She figured she'd rent her house out, put some of her belongings in storage, and pack her necessities to ship down to Louisiana. She didn't schedule her return flight but anticipated being gone a few weeks.

Jason finally spoke with the principals of the middle school and the junior high the Friday following Bill's departure and it was decided that the kids, much to their chagrin, would be able to start school the following Wednesday. When Wednesday finally rolled around, none of the three was pleased at having to return to school since they'd had so much fun during their week-plus hiatus. The only cool thing about going back to school was that Eric dropped them off in Pam's Mercedes.

Godric would, once the regular filming schedule began, be conducting studies with an on-site tutor. Eric, however, was concerned upon realizing the tutor the studio had secured did not speak Dutch or French. He and Pam kicked into gear making calls until they were able to find a suitable tutor.

With Rene Lenier's sentencing for domestic abuse, Jason was able to land a full-time position on the Parish road crew. Since Rene was known as the "crazy" one, Jason was hoping things would settle down with Rene's absence. Jason wasn't oblivious to the possibility that he'd fall back into old bad habits since he was working with his old buddies. He just hoped that, between him being aware of it and Pam being on his case, he'd have enough sense to steer clear of that shit. Besides, he needed to keep an eye on ole' Catfish for more signs that the guy only had one oar in the water.

With the news that the script tweaking was done, Eric, Pam and Godric were able to start working again the following Monday. While Eric and Godric went to the set each day, Pam's days varied with her being onset some days but remaining at the house to catch up with non-HBO stuff other days. At one point, about a week after Bill's departure, she received a rather odd email from Russell, who'd gone back to LA for a week. The message, which thanked her for the "incredible talent" she had suggested had her perplexed. If she had found some "incredible talent," she could think of ten other directions she'd point them to as opposed to Russell Edgington and HBO. But, since it was Russell, and since Russell was crazy, she'd just shrugged and chalked it up to more of his and Talbot's "fairy intrigue."

On the personal front, Pam found herself in a rather interesting situation with Jason. They continued to have sex. It was very, very good. Thankfully Pam's room was at the far end of the wing, far from the children's rooms, so it was less awkward than one would think.

As for what else their relationship might be, that was still a quandary. Jason had, thinking it the right thing to do, asked Pam out on a date the Saturday after Bill left.

"Pam, I'd like for us to do something outside the house, one of these days. What do ya say?"

Pam had just stared at him, a puzzled look in her face. "You want us to have sex outside?"

Jason's eyes widened, then took on a far-off look before they finally refocused on Pam. "Uh, naw," he shook his head. Squinting his face, he shook his head again. "I mean, no, that's not what I'm talkin' about. Now, I mean. But, heck, sure. Doin' it outside with you would probably make my top ten list!"

Pam, surprisingly pleased by his innocent admission, smiled. She was not sure what this...this "thing" was but she was enjoying it. Although her fallback of vaguely calling it a "thing" irritated her immensely in that it reminded her of pussy Eric and his initial refusal to acknowledge the Barracuda as his girlfriend. Following the parallel that that train of thought led to, Pam was then left wondering if Jason were, in fact, now her boyfriend.

_Well, the idea makes me feel ill, but not as ill as I would've anticipated, _she admitted to herself_._

They made plans to go to Monroe and see a movie and have dinner. There was actually a drive-in movie theatre and Pam had never been to one of those. Jason was pleased as punch to have come up with a "first" he could offer Pam.

Weiss and Lattesta, following the Wednesday outing to Splash Kingdom, fell off the radar. They confirmed that they might call with follow-up questions. But a week went by and the only one they called was Pam to get Bill's name. She happily gave them as much information as she could, including year, make, and plate number of his odious pink mauve automobile. The two reporters also agreed that they would contact Eric, Pam, and the Stackhouses prior to the article's publication and would allow them an opportunity to comment on the story accuracy. With that, however, time passed and they heard not a word from the reporters. Pam kept an eye on the celebrity news blogs but nothing regarding the article ever surfaced.

Tara started her job working at F Mott Associates the Monday after Bill left. JB never warmed up to the idea but Tara finally lost all patience with his "JB the Barbarian" act. She told him, since she pretty much broke up with Frank to date _him_ years ago, he's the last person who should be jealous of Frank. Truthfully, Tara was thrilled to have landed a job in Shreveport that was even remotely related to her education and the path she'd chosen for herself. The idea of working for Frank after being treated like a minion for a year was a very welcome change.

The days of spring passed with an easy kind of charm. Until Friday, May 27, the day the Barracuda returned.

A little before dinner, Tara, Maxine—who had just gotten back from New York the night before—were inside preparing dinner. The four kids had themselves occupied throughout the house. Jason, deciding to grab a bite with the guys at Merlotte's had, after some debate on who to call, finally called Pam.

Pleased at first that she was the one he called, Pam quickly began second-guessing the matter, finally berating herself for being "angsty" and scolding herself that she needed to "grow a pair." Maxine silently absorbed Pam's diatribe. She was quite used to her friend's talking aloud to herself. Tara, who had returned to the kitchen after relaying Jase's message to Sook, caught the tail end of Pam's "self tough love" session and gave her a thoughtful look.

The kitchen windows wide open to capture any breeze northern Louisiana had to offer, all three women looked up with a start at the sound of screaming.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FUCKING DID THIS!"

Sookie and Eric were standing out in front of the house. They were also standing in front of a fully-loaded $60,000 Indigo Blue Volkswagen Touareg that had just been delivered.

"Eric! What the hell? I have a car! You have a car! What the heck is this?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, my Vette legally seats two and your Cabrio seats four. There are now six to be accommodated. I figured this would come in handy when we all needed to go somewhere together."

Sookie let out an irritated sigh. Fuming, she glared at Eric. It was not a happy moment.

"Sookie, my intentions, I assure you, were not to upset you," Eric replied blandly. Eric, knowing he needed to portray this acquisition as being more matter-of-fact than buying a toothbrush, used more than a few expressions from his actor's toolkit.

Sookie, meanwhile, had a suspicion she was being played. "Eric, I'm not saying you did it on purpose to upset me—"

"Of course."

"But you didn't ask me—"

"and what would you have said?"

"I would've said 'no'!"

"Exactly. We would have had an argument and no suitable vehicle. This way we still have the argument, yet we also have the needed vehicle."

Sookie, annoyed by his logic —which, she had to admit, for all intents and purposes, was spot on—bit down hard on her lip to refrain from yelling anything further following her initial angry outburst. In a more moderate tone, she continued.

"But you were so high-handed! Just doing this like this! And you put me down as co-owner?"

"Yes, I almost made you the owner outright but I knew it would upset you so," he looked at her intently, "I did it this way hoping to deflect some of your anger. I am certain," he paused, "it must've worked, which, frankly, frightens me. Besides, it is possible I will be able to get certain tax write-offs since I'm in Louisiana for work purposes."

Sookie let out an angry sigh. "You just have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Lover," Eric strode a step forward and took her hands in his own. "I don't do things without a reason. I don't spend money I don't have. I wouldn't be taking any of these steps if it weren't my objective to be here for the long haul." He leaned forward with the intention of laying a gentle kiss on Sookie's lips. In a surprise move, Sookie looped her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her so the kiss lasted much longer.

Finally, they separated. Eric raised a questioning eyebrow at Sookie, who just shrugged.

"I realized I didn't want to fight," she met his gaze. "Besides, you're gonna own a part of the house. Silly to fight over a car," she shrugged again. "And you're right. It has been annoying taking two cars whenever we head out with the kids."

Eric nodded silently in agreement.

It was Sookie's turn to quirk an eyebrow. "No 'I told you so'?"

"How about I just kiss you instead?"

Sookie, smiling, shook her head. "What is that? Some kind of positive reinforcement to get me to fall in line quicker?"

Eric laughed. "I wouldn't dream of being _that _manipulative. I'm just opportunistic."

"Well, you seem to have made the most of this opportunity," she laughed.

"Yes, and I'm grateful for it every day."

* * *

Finally Saturday, June 4 rolled around. Nearly a month since everyone converged at the farmstead, it was also the night of Tara and JB's engagement dinner.

Since Tara and JB had kept news of their engagement rather on the quiet side at the du Rones' party, they'd decided to have a dinner party with friends to celebrate. JB's parents rented the back room of the Lafayette Bar and Grill. Recognizing just how many were now in the family, it was decided that the engagement party would be kept relatively intimate.

In addition to the Stackhouse extended family and the du Rones, the guest list included JB's friend Kevin Prior and his girlfriend Kenya Jones; Sam Merlotte and his more and more frequent companion, Daphne; Alcee Beck and his wife, Barbara; and Bud Dearborn and his wife. A few others, including JB's friend Eggs who had moved from the area a few months before Tara returned, were invited but couldn't make it for one reason or another. Arlene caught wind of the dinner and did her best to insinuate her way onto the guest list but Sookie put her foot down. Tara wanted to invite Holly Cleary but decided against it given Jason and Pam's new understanding.

The only other guest on the list was Franklin who RSVPd that he'd be in LA until Saturday and was probably going to fly back standby so he wasn't sure what time he'd be back. Given the recent emergence of JB's inner caveman, Tara wasn't all together certain Frank's not being able to come wasn't a good thing. Although, if he came with a date that would help. Feeling odd at the thought of Frank bringing a date, Tara decided it would be best that he not make the party.

JB's parents, technically the hosts, were the first to arrive at the restaurant. JB and Tara followed soon after. Sitting in the back room, waiting for the rest of their party to arrive, Tara filled her future in-laws in on her new job. She didn't mention the part about her new boss being someone she dated back in high school but if she had she would have described Frank as "the squirrely kid in high school I dumped to be with your Neanderthal son." JB noted her omission but wisely said nothing.

Next to arrive was Pam flanked by Maxine and Jason. To the du Rones, having some familiarity with Pam's broad tastes, as they later agreed, it was difficult to read strictly from body language if she was, in fact, dating Jason or Maxine. They walked in like a threesome and given the fact that Pam seemed to divide her time conversing equally between the two of them—if not actually slightly favoring Maxine—it wasn't overwhelmingly clear that Pam and Jason were a couple although they didn't doubt Tara for a moment.

Eric, Sookie and the four kids were the next to arrive. Sookie, before plastering a smile on her face, was scowling.

"If you two continue with this shit throughout dinner, I'll tie you both to a fence outside and you can eat from a bowl."

Sookie, amazed that she had given Eric a hard time over the Touareg was now wondering that they didn't need an even bigger car. Maybe even a bus so her pain-in-the-ass siblings could be further separated during car rides. Generally good for local trips, anything over ten minutes quickly evolved to both a test of endurance and tolerance. Sookie had no problem with endurance. She just had little tolerance with their incessant bickering and the boys had had some fight over something while they were still home and it had carried over into the car.

Ame and God, in comparison, had been model passengers, talking low in French. Although, _that _ongoing trend was starting to make Sookie increasingly uneasy. She'd instructed Eric to listen in once in a while and he'd assured her nothing harmful was being said. Still, with so many of them in the house, was it too much to ask that everyone speak the same language?

The night went by quickly. The party was, by and large, a success. There were only a few subtle signs that not everyone had a terrific time. Pam looking slightly bored as Jason told her about his job. Jason throwing a thoughtful look at Pam when he knew she wouldn't see. Tara glancing furtively at the door. JB, a pensive expression on his face, as he considered the potential cause for Tara's obvious unease.

Aside from Amelia and Godric, the other new couple having a carelessly good time were Eric and Sookie. Oblivious to the fact that most eyes were on them, the happy couple were the first to dance. Natural dance partners, they gracefully made their way around the dance floor. Surprised by how easily they fell into a rhythm together, Sookie smiled at Eric, who reciprocated by leaning over and giving her a quick kiss.

As they danced, both their minds returned to the conversation they had had earlier that day, and, in fact, numerous times over the past few days. Raising three kids and overseeing a large house wasn't necessarily something Sookie could do from a distance. With Eric's return to California at the end of the summer, they needed to devise a plan. Of course, Eric felt he had it all figured out. He decided to broach it on the dance floor.

"You know, with you and the children coming out to California, we can get a nanny or even a tutor. Or both. I have the money. I'm going to have to make arrangements for God, anyway. I just want you with me. And I want your mind at ease."

Sookie's eyebrow shot up. It was far too soon for them to be complicating things any further by Eric paying for stuff like that. Admittedly, while she was feeling much more comfortable in the relationship, it was still new. Ultimately, her family was her responsibility. Eric was doing—Eric had done—enough for them. She didn't want to grouse at him—again—on his whole 'high-handed' routine, so she decided to tactically come up with another excuse to demur his offer.

"Please, no! You see how being raised in Hollywood ruins kids? Who did I just see interviewed the other day? The actress who won an Academy Award when she was eleven? Anyway, she's so socially awkward and uncomfortable. You can practically see the wheels turning in her head while she's trying to think up something to say. I wanted to jump into the television and grease up her brain for her," Sookie cringed. "It was painful to watch."

"Painful, huh?"

"Yeah," Sookie laughed. "The kids would've called it a Douche Chill Moment."

Eric let out a snort of laughter. "Oh, yes? Would they, now? And what would you have called it, Miss Stackhouse?"

Sookie snickered and didn't respond at first. Eric continued to stare at her expectantly. Finally, she answered him.

"A Douche Chill Moment," she met his eyes, the joke passing between them. "Okay," she stopped laughing. "So I have a bit of a pottymouth—"

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Well, what of it?"

"Maybe a nanny for the kids would actually offset that."

"No."

"Not every child who grows up in an acting household grows up unbalanced. I know another Swedish actor whose father is a well-known actor and he's really a nice guy."

"Where did he grow up?"

"Sweden."

"Case closed. Three kids and no nannies."

"You've got Jason, too."

Sookie's eyes widened. "You're right! He's another one! Don't I know it!"

"No," Eric laughed. "I meant I hope he'll be able to help you with the kids."

Sookie looked doubtful. "Yeah, me too. He's really come through lately, been good with them. But now, that he's back to working on the road crew...Well, let's just say they're not the best influence. I'm glad he's got a job, but I'm not thrilled it's with his old crowd. Maybe he should take classes or something." Sookie shrugged. "Know the expression,' don't use it, you lose it'? " She peered up at Eric, who nodded. "Well, there's never been truer words when it comes to Jase and Jase's brain."

Eric fixed a thoughtful gaze on his love, pondering her observation.

As they continued to dance-including several slow dances- Sookie could feel Eric's 'growing' enthusiasm for having her in his arms.

"What's going on?" She asked, a sly smile on her face.

"Miss Stackhouse, you know full and well what's going on." He lowered his head onto her shoulder, dropping a few featherlight kisses along her exposed flesh. "I wish there was a dark and hidden corner somewhere. I'd push you up against the wall, wrap your legs around me, and make you scream."

"Oh, really? Anyway," Sookie started to chuckle, "I wonder how Bill's doing?" She looked up at Eric, a shadow of a smile playing at her lips. "Do you think I should've called him to make sure he didn't die from dehydration?"

Eric sighed. "Well-played, lover." Eric glanced down to see his quickly retreating 'gracious plenty.' "You," he observed, "certainly know how to tame the beast."

Sookie laughed again. "Good thing, too. For one thing, I doubt either of us has a condom. Not to mention what leaning up against the wall with my legs wrapped around you would do to my lower back."

Eric looked down at his 'tall ship.' Half-mast, now.

"You are cruel, lover. Cruel." He shook his head, a half-smile on his lips.

"Oh, yeah?" Sookie closed the distance between them and laid her lips on his, giving him a scorching kiss. "But you love it, don't you?" she said as she pulled away.

"Apparently so," he grinned.

"Good," she smiled back.

_The End._

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**Chapter 81 is posted as a link from my FF profile. See: **

_**Chapter 81: Tabloid Hollywood Shocker: Is Pam Ravenscroft Straight?**_

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**AN: **

**Stackhouse Six Sequel? **Here's where your comments could make a difference. Please let me know if (1) you'd like to see a sequel and (2) what/who you'd like to see in a sequel. Let it be known -and the rereaders know this - I'm easily influenced by reader comments!

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**The Snarky Sidekick Contest: **Whether she's doling out the snark or dispatching bad guys, Pam kills. See the contest under my Favorite Authors. Read (and review) "**Be Your Own Viking**" the promo fic I wrote for the contest. Not only does it star snarky Pam but I also managed to work in Adonis DNA. _Winning!_

**More Pam**: Pam is in the lead for Funniest ROTSS Character on my FF Profile. She's got 28 while Hunter is second with 19. Forty have voted so far. While that is awesome, even more voters would be more awesome!

**The Dead Man of Shreveport**: Got free time? Check out my other fic. It's AU/Canon post Club Dead. Eric and Sookie are solving a mystery in Shreveport while Bill is finding himself in Peru. (Bill isn't actually in the fic.)

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**THANKS EVERYBODY! NEWBIES! REREADERS! LURKERS! THANKS ESPECIALLY TO THE REVIEWERS - YOU MADE IT A LOT OF FUN AND I COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU! HUGS ESP TO ALEX!**


	81. Shocker: Is Pam Ravenscroft Straight?

**Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic story is from Elizabeth Cadell's "The Lark Shall Sing," (also known as "The Singing Heart") while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries.**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: MUCH FUNNIER TABLOID VERSION HYPERLINKED FROM MY FANFIC PROFILE PAGE! **

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**Chapter Eighty-One: ****Hollywood Shocker: Is Pam Ravenscroft Straight?**

By Sara Weiss and Tom Lattesta

Hollywood celebrity watchers are in for some interesting celebrity news these days. In an odd change of course, Hollywood Manager to perhaps the most eclectic collection of 'hots' and 'nots,' ever and well-known "ladies woman' Pam Ravenscroft is apparently dating a member of the opposite sex.

The English born beauty, 33, has been a fixture in Los Angeles since her days as a student at UCLA. It was there she met Hollywood heartthrob and long-time friend Eric Northman.

For months Ravenscroft and Northman have been on-location in Shreveport, Louisiana where Northman has been filming his HBO series, "Over My Dead Body." It seems that cupids arrow found the duo easily in the Pelican State. Not only have both Ravenscroft and Northman found significant others, but those others are siblings!

In a move reminiscent of Cher's 1980s relationship with Rob "Bagel Boy" Camiletti, Ravenscroft is dating Jason Stackhouse, a 26-year old municipal road crew worker from Bon Temps, LA. Stackhouse was recently released from active duty in Afghanistan. The blue-collar Stackhouse and the blue-blood Ravenscroft make a striking couple and have been known to get down to business in public locales, dispensing with a need for privacy. For instance, the two have been known to knock boots at the local dive restaurant, seen in photo below.

Perhaps the most shocking part of this revelation is the fact that Ravenscroft has not been linked to a man in nearly a decade and has even gone so far as to describe herself as an "Uber Lesbian." Here is a sampling of quotes the gorgeous blonde has made over the years.

-"I enjoy the company of women because I am a woman, and, well, I am delightful."

-"Men can be quite naïve. They actually believe me when I say I enjoy having sex with them."

-"I haven't had sex with a man since the Eisenhower administration."

-"Eric is my best friend because he is unlike other men. He is almost not a man at all. I enjoy the fact that he is such a big pussy."

-"Women are smarter, funnier, and prettier than men. Plus we share clothing and do each other's hair. What would I gain from dating a man? A refrigerator filled with beer?"

Long-time friend and associate Russell Edgington, when asked about the news story, had only this comment. "Pam Ravenscroft has bigger balls than 95% of the guys out there." When asked to clarify, Edgington responded "Spend some time with her. You'll figure it out."

Interestingly, it seems that Ravenscroft, despite her relationship with Stackhouse, still seems to continue to form close attachments to other women. She remains a tight relationship with Maxine Fortenberry, a retired urban planner from New York State who recently moved to Louisiana and lives with the Stackhouses as a boarder.

After a confrontation with a houseguest at the Stackhouse home, Ravenscroft was heard to say "Well, if I did not prefer the company of women before today, I certainly do now."

When reminded of her boytoy, Stackhouse, Ravenscroft started to sing another tune, quickly amending her statement. "And Jason. I enjoy women and Jason."

This is definitely an intriguing turn of events and it will be interesting to see what happens once filming in Shreveport wraps and Ravenscroft returns to Hollywood.

**The Vampire Takes a Bride? OY! What a Family! Talk About Skeletons in the Closet!**

**By Sara Weiss and Tom Lattesta**

Hollywood heartthrob Eric Northman seems to be off the market. Tinseltown's golden boy has squired dozens of beauties around the globe over the past decade. His longest relationship of note has been to long- time friend, Pam Ravenscroft but the duo has always denied any romantic involvement. Northman also dated producer Sophie Anne LeClerq for several months a few years ago, but again the couple insisted they were just friends.

Northman seems to have finally met his match in a modern-day Scarlett O'Hara. Northman has been secretly dating Southern belle, Sookie Stackhouse, 27, sister to Jason Stackhouse, for quite some time. The couple appears serious and is in the process of moving in together.

Stackhouse is a columnist for several Texas lifestyle magazines although her recent move back to Louisiana will require a career shift. Stackhouse is also the primary guardian and caretaker for three younger siblings ranging in age from 11 to 13. In addition to Sookie, brother Jason, and the three children, the Stackhouse sibs also include Tara Stackhouse, 25. Tara recently started working with F Mott Associates, a Hollywood film logistics firm. Rounding out the family household is 16-year old Godric Christiansen. Teen heartthrob Christiansen recently joined the cast of "Over My Dead Body" to portray the vampire "child" of Northman's character. In a moment of life imitating art, Northman has been made guardian of the boy, as the young Danish actor has no relatives in the United States.

Aside from their recent Hollywood connections, the Stackhouse siblings have their own connection to notoriety. Their step grandfather was well-to-do Louisiana businessman Niall Brigant. Brigant is suspected of faking his own death in a single-engine plane crash in 1975. Although rumors have abounded for years that Brigant, who was suspected of embezzlement, extortion, and other criminal activity, is still alive and living somewhere in the southern United States, no evidence has ever been found.

Brigant's daughter, and aunt to the Stackhouse siblings, Linda Brigant, is the girlfriend of suspected mobster, Felipe De Castro. De Castro—and Brigant—have been under Federal surveillance since earlier this year. This was following unsubstantiated allegations that De Castro conducted a "shake down" of several San Antonio businesses. The couple has a four- month old daughter, Hadley. It is assumed that if charges are brought against the couple, Sookie Stackhouse will likely be granted custody of the infant.

In a final very strange postscript to this story, the ex-fiance of Ms. Stackhouse, Bill Compton, a former economist, was recently cast as a recurring character on "Over My Dead Body." The decision was made by the show's producer and head writer, Russell Edgington who had this to say: "He's an extraordinary talent. I will forever be in debt to Pam Ravenscroft for steering him to us."

Northman, who has also fanned the flames of rumors that he would one day leave Hollywood and,

following in the footsteps of Clint Eastwood, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Ronald Reagan, pursue a career in politics. One thing is for sure: He'll need some serious public relations help with in-laws and friends like these.

* * *

**AN: Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed it! **

**:D**


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